Rockabye
by Angelustatt
Summary: Fourth Story in the Protectorverse. With Dean's deal still counting down and the baby due in a couple of months; Dean and Sam are called away on a hunt involving cursed paintings. Dean confronts his past and his feelings of becoming a father.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Okay, here we go, guys...the first chapter. Hope you like this. I'm aiming at something a little lighter, a little different but still in keeping with the whole series. Heavy on the boys for once...cause they are so much fun together as you know. Feedback is love as you know...and as always, I can't thank LovinJackson enough for her help with this. Enjoy!!_

**xxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxx**

_**Six Months after the events of Amen….**_

What the hell was taking so long? Everything had been done right. The box had been filled with everything that was required, it had been buried at the crossroads….the very crossroads he was waiting on right now. He fidgeted nervously, looking around, wondering if he had forgotten something? Since when were demons shy? Especially when it came to deals….or in this case, breaking them.

"I know you're out there, let's get this over with."

The woman appeared, a soft jade green evening dress on that accentuated her curves and brought out the red of her demonic eyes as she flashed them with a wolfish smile. "Well, well, well….Sam Winchester. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm not here for small talk and you know it." Sam snapped coldly, his gazed locked onto the demon before him.

The woman pouted her bottom lip out before she smiled flirtingly at Sam. "No small talk? No friendly banter while I try to convince you I'm not as evil as you think I am? Honestly Sam, you're no fun anymore since your powers came into being. I think I liked you better before."

"And I think I'd like to rip you out of that body and tear you apart with my bare hands….but we don't always get what we want. You know why I'm here."

"Dean…" The name was sighed out through ruby red lips as though it was a chore to speak it. "I was hoping you'd be a little less predictable. Perhaps say you'd come to see me? We could go out for drinks…maybe a little more?" She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled at the revulsion she saw on Sam's face at the thought. "I could give you so much more than that grating little stick figure you've taken a shine t--"

Sam's eyes were swirling with golden flecks now, dancing like flames within his eyes as he unleashed his mind on the Crossroad Demon. She gasped and clawed at her throat as she felt herself being drawn out of the body she had claimed. Her eyes were wide with fear, before Sam released her, watching as she dropped to the ground and scrambled back away from him. The raw power she had felt tearing at her had scared the Demon. It was true death Sam was offering and it was promising to be pain-filled.

"You don't talk about Elise. Ever. You understand me?" Sam threatened. His eyes had returned to normal but there was no light within them. They were cold and devoid of any emotion. A deadman's eyes. "I'm here to make a deal. You take me and you let my brother go."

The demon laughed softly as she got to her feet again. "You think it's that simple? Your life for his? Oh, honey….I hate to break it to you, but you have nothing I want. You're worthless, Sam."

"What?" Sam hadn't been expecting that. Not when he was among the last of the Special Children left alive, not when he full access to his powers. How the hell could he be worthless? What about the plans Yellow Eyes had apparently had for him and all the children like him? The demon blood that he had in his veins. Why else had the Demon forced Sam to flip the switch inside his head? "You're lying…"

"I wish I was, honey." The demon said softly, as though she truly regretted her position. "But you bit the hand that fed you. You turned against Azazel. You could have been someone special, could have been the one to lead the armies and restore balance in Hell. But you turned your back on all that….which made you worthless to us. Sorry, Sam. The deal stands. Dean is going to Hell and there's nothing you can do about it."

"I could kill you."

" So you keep saying…" The demon smiled pleasantly, growing bored with the conversation now. "Go ahead…it's not going to save him. I'm not the one that holds his contract, Sam. I'm just a messenger, a bureaucrat. Kill me? And someone else will take my place. But this meat suit I'm wearing? She'll be dead too. Would you like to know about her, Sam? How she worked as a childcare worker before the Hell Gate opened? That she has three children and a husband that all survived? Seems kind of a shame to leave them without a wife and mother now because you can't get your own way, doesn't it? What would your girl think of that?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot for a moment, torn by what the demon was saying. He could kill her so easy, without even raising a sweat. It was what she deserved. What they all deserved. Dean was going to die, was going to go to Hell in a few months and they were no closer to saving him. How was it fair that he would die while this bitch of a demon would continue to live? Continue to laugh about it? By his side, Sam's hands slowly clenched into fists, his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. How could he face Elise if he killed this girl?

Without saying another word, Sam turned and walked back to the Chevelle, pausing beside it long enough to punch the driver's door hard enough to dent it deeply. He felt a knuckle crack from the blow, pain sparking through his hand before he opened the door and slid behind the wheel. Bobby would be pissed about the damage to his car, but Sam would deal. A few hours of panel beating wasn't much of a problem.

The Chevelle pealed away furiously as Sam planted his foot and left the Crossroads behind him.

Once the tail-lights had faded out of sight, another figure stepped out of the shadows and approached the Crossroads. The demon turned slowly, her hands on her hips as she eyed the man before her. "He's so human still. So weak."

"Nice little speech there, Sarina. Making Sam think twice about killing you? You deserve an Oscar for that little performance. We both know that woman's been dead for days…you enjoy playing with your toys too much." John Winchester growled, his wings tucked in tightly behind him, like snakes coiled, ready to lash out.

"You know me well, John. Although I wasn't lying about the family…the pain of her being missing was much more fun than killing them all. But what can I say? I just can't resist you Winchesters. Those boys of yours are such delicious fun when they're hurting.…and that boy of yours really is hurting, isn't he? All torn up about his big brother facing the Hellfire…" Sarina gave John a sad little pout that quickly curled up into a evil smirk. "So sweet to see."

John moved slowly and smoothly until he was face to face with Sarina. His eyes were cold, reflecting nothing of the grim smile on his face as he held her gaze. John regretted not killing this bitch back in Colby when she had attacked Dean. He'd let Sarina slip through his fingers, because he had been more concerned for Dean at the time…and now she was laughing about the fate his son was facing. All the rage, the fear, the frustration John had been carrying these past few months was boiling within him, yet he was perfectly still and contained.

"So….are you here to offer your soul next, John? Because it's a little late for that, don't you think? Or did you miss our time together below when I had you screaming for your family? For that dead wife of yours?"

With the speed of a snake striking, John slid a knife from behind his back and rammed it right to the hilt in the demon's stomach. Sarina gasped in shock, her eyes flying open wide as blood pooled in her mouth and ran down her chin. Her face lit up with supernatural power as the demon inside the body was destroyed.

"It's amazing what you can stumble across in the Key of Solomon…weapons that mankind hasn't seen in centuries…." John snarled as he twisted the blade in his hand, pushing it up deeper, feeling it catch bone before he yanked it free and watched Sarina slide bonelessly to the floor.

"Sam's not a killer, not like us." John said quietly, before he pulled out his cellphone and dialled the police, informing them anonymously of the body of Robin Matheson. It would give her family some closure at least.

The world was now functioning on almost a completely normal level again. Cities were rebuilding, global communication was restored, economies were recovering. Mankind was bouncing back, showing it's resilience as always in the face of adversity. But this was a new world now…one where supernatural activity was widespread and people lived with the constant threat of demons and other creatures who called the dark their own.

Tucking the knife back into his belt, John launched himself into the sky and banked to the left, flying low, his massive black wings beating fast to help him up with Sam and the Chevelle. John would feel happier once he saw Sam drive through the gates of Singer's Auto Yard.

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxx**

**Kyle, South Dakota. 3 Days later….**

The church was small and quaint, probably built over a hundred years ago or more. It was the sort of little wooden church you expected to see in the old westerns, but this was no relic from the past. It still had sermons every Sunday and counted most of the Kyle and the surrounding area as it's amongst it's parishioners.

It had started out innocently enough. Skye had gotten the urge to seek out a priest and ask him about blessing the baby. But from the first visit, something had felt wrong. Skye had been coming here for the past few months now, at staggered intervals, whenever she was able to get to town without Dean. Partly because she knew how he felt about religion -- Skye wasn't exactly religious herself -- and partly because she didn't want him to know about the fear that she had been carrying for the last couple of months. It had been quietly growing throughout the pregnancy, but Skye had kept it to herself, not even telling Elise about it.

Now as she stood alone outside the church, Skye let out a shaky breath, then headed inside. Sam and Elise were supposed to be picking her up shortly, so Skye wouldn't be here too long…just long enough to find out.

As soon as she crossed the threshold of the church, it started. The nausea, the blinding headaches. Skye kept trying to tell herself that it was just morning sickness, but it was more than just that….and it was scaring the hell out of her.

She sat down on a pew at the back, massaging her temples and feeling like she was going to pass out , the room spinning dizzily. It was the same thing each time she entered the church. What was causing this? The baby? Every doctor that Skye had seen, told her the baby was fine and looking healthy as an ox….so what was wrong with her?

Leaning forward as best she could around her huge, swollen belly, Skye grabbed hold of the pew in front of her, breathing calmly to keep her stomach from rolling. There was the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Skye turned her head, expecting to see Father Atherton standing beside her….but instead, she found Sam. He crouched down beside her, concern etched into his face. "Hey….hey you okay, Skye?"

"Sam?" Skye could feel a cold sweat breaking out. "I….I need to get out of here…."

"Let me help." Sam gently took Skye by the arm and helped her to stand, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"I don't know what it is. Every time I enter a church….I feel sick and dizzy. What if it's the baby, Sam? What if something's wrong with the baby? Because of what Dean did?" Skye couldn't keep the fearful tremble out of her voice as she looked at Sam.

Sam cupped his hands to either side of Skye's face and made sure she was focussed on him. "Hey, listen to me. This doesn't mean anything. Okay? It doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or the baby."

"How can you be so sure, Sam? It'd break Dean's heart if he thought anything was wrong…"

"Listen. There's nothing wrong…and the reason I know? Is because nothing is affecting me being here with you. Now if it was something Dean had done, if there was anything wrong with the baby because of Dean's blood or the deal he made….don't you think I'd be affected too by being in here?"

Skye frowned slightly, taking in what Sam was saying and finding hope in those words. "You're not feeling anything? You feel okay? Maybe it takes time to take affect….maybe--"

"Skye, stop!" Sam's tone was sharp, instantly catching Skye's attention and stilling her. "I understand why you're doing this. I've been praying every day for years, I even come into churches sometimes…..for more than just some holy water…and trust me. I've never felt anything but welcome. Whatever is causing this to happen to you? It's not because there's anything wrong with the baby."

Skye slid her arms around Sam and hugged him tightly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I'm just so scared that something will go wrong, Sam."

" I know…I know you are. Dean has no idea you've been doing this, does he?" The shake of Skye's head confirmed Sam's suspicions. " Well, I'm not going to say anything to him. It's our secret, okay?"

"Thanks." Skye smiled gratefully. Dean already had enough to worry about, he didn't need to know about this. "I guess we should get home, huh?"

" Yeah."

" Hey….Sam?" Skye paused as she headed for the door with him. "How come you came inside to get me? You weren't supposed to pick me up for a little while yet."

"Elise was worried about you….she sent me in."

"Elise huh?" Skye realised how well the girls had begun to know each other now. It was comforting. " Guess I owe her a drink then…"

Sam laughed and held the door open for Skye, ever the gentlemen.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

**Singer's Auto Yard…**

"You're sure that's right, Bobby?"

"'Course it's right! What? You pick now to start doubting my skills, boy?" Bobby Singer looked up from his crouched position, paintbrush still in hand. Beneath him was an intricately painted Devil's Trap. It covered most of the floor of the room he was in.

"I just need to be sure it's going to work, Bobby. It's not exactly something I want done half assed." Dean Winchester replied, looking at the crib that was sitting near the trap. The whole room was painted in soft neutral colours with a mixture of cartoon zoo and farm animals decorating the walls. Intermixed with them, were protective runes and symbols that Bobby and John had found to keep out all manner of supernatural beings.

The Devil's Trap was placed to trap anything demonic before it reached the crib. And rubbed into the wooden frame of the crib itself, were oils and crushed herbs that would offer various protections.

Everything was hidden, discreet. Designed to offer as much protection for the baby as was possible, without alerting Skye to it all. There was no need to worry her. A bright, cartoon cityscape played out across the rug that Dean had picked to hide the Devil's Trap. It had roads crisscrossing it in all directions, perfectly made for Connor and his little brother or sister to drive toy cars on.

To the untrained eye, all they would see was a normal nursery and that was the way Dean wanted it. Hopefully there would never be a need for this protection. Dean wanted to believe that history wouldn't repeat and the Yellow Eyed Demon would leave his baby alone. The memory of that dream, of Skye burning and bleeding on the ceiling while Connor carried his baby brother out of the house had never left Dean and now he was determined it would never come true.

With the deal looming closer and closer, Dean wanted nothing more than to know his family would be safe when he was gone. He knew Dad, Sam and Bobby would watch over them…but that didn't make it any easier.

Dean was getting tired. Tired of reading for hours and hours, only to come up empty handed. Tired of chasing one lead after another, talking to demons, witches, all sorts of shady characters….and always walking away with the same answer. He was going to Hell.

As each day ticked by, he became more scared of what was waiting for him, of what life would be like for Skye, left with two children to raise and the questions she would have to answer one day.

Everything he ever wanted was right in front of him now. His father and brother, a family of his own….and he was going to lose it all.

Bobby made sure the rug was properly positioned on the floor before he stepped back. "So what do you think? Is it going to work? You feeling anything?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at the question. "How the hell would I know? I'm going to Hell, Bobby…I'm not there yet, dammit."

"Don't go getting your shorts in a bunch, boy. I was talking about that demon blood in you….it having any effect at all?"

"I feel a little itchy?" Dean shrugged casually, his face screwing up into a thoughtful expression.

Connor suddenly rushed into the room, naked and dripping water everywhere as he ran around, trying to avoid being caught. John was only a few steps behind him and the instant he crossed the Devil's Trap, he was unable to move out of it. Connor froze for an instant, surprised by the fact his "Poppy" had seemingly given up the chance and was now standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his chest, clearly unimpressed.

"I guess it works…." Dean grinned, swallowing back his laughter but still managing a sound somewhere near a snort.

"You want to let me out now?" John demanded, tapping his foot impatiently. He watched as Connor squealed with laughter again, then ran from the room, sliding around the corner with ease on his wet feet. "And while you're at it? You can get him back into the bath…."

Dean was laughing quietly to himself as he jogged out the door after Connor. All he could see was wet, puddly, footprints leading down the hallway, then down the stairs. He followed the trail, spotting a naked little 3 year old standing near the front door with the cheekiest grin Dean had ever seen. As soon as he took a step towards Connor, the front door opened. Skye, Sam and Elise entered the house with their arms full of groceries and supplies, which meant Connor was able to fly out between their legs like a naked pink streak of lightning, his devilish giggling echoing back inside from the yard as he disappeared.

Skye paused long enough in front of Dean to grab a quick kiss from him, before she headed towards the kitchen with a smile on her face. "Bath time?"

"Nah, I was reading the Emperor's New Clothes to him and he got ideas…" Dean quipped with a smirk. He laughed as Skye put the box down she had been holding and flipped him a middle finger salute.

"Less sarcasm and more kid catching, mister….you wouldn't want him to climb inside the Impala all muddy and wet, would you?" Skye asked, smiling knowingly.

Dean locked eyes with Skye, horror filling his face. "No…he wouldn't…we've talked about it…he knows the rules….he…" Bolting out the door, Dean didn't hear the laughter that exploded from everyone in the kitchen.

**xxxxXXXxxxxx**

Elise was busy packing the walk in pantry full of canned goods, when a shadow fell over her. Turning, she found herself face to face with Sam's chest and had to look up to see the mischievous grin plastered across his face. "Just what are you up to?"

"Me? Nothing…" Sam's grin grew impossibly wider and more wicked as he leaned in and captured Elise's lips with his own. Reaching behind him, he began to close the pantry door, giving them more privacy.

"Uhhhh, Sam? What are you doing? What about Skye? The others? Someone's gonna bloody well see us!" Elise tried to explain as he was kissing her along her jaw line and down her throat. It was enough to send Elise's knees to jelly as she tipped her head back more, closing her eyes and sighing softly.

"Skye's gone upstairs….we're alone down here…" Sam whispered, suckling gently on the soft skin at the base of her neck. His hands caressed her breasts through the soft material of her blouse, his own body already reacting to what he had here, to his need to have Elise. In the past, Sam had never understood Dean's insatiable appetite for women or his lack of inhibition….but Elise was a different story. There were no secrets here, no double life, no lies….Sam could be who he was without judgement and to have that with Elise brought out a more primal side of Sam that had only ever been touched upon with Madison.

Sam was unbuttoning Elise's shirt slowly, trailing searing hot kisses along her collarbone and down into the apex of her cleavage, when his cell phone began to ring in his back pocket. The soft, yet distinct chords of Staind's Outside, started to fill the enclosed space of the pantry. Sam tried to ignore it at first, still letting his lips leave hot, wet kisses across Elise's skin….but the phone continued to ring and ring.

"Ignore it…" Elise growled huskily.

Sam tried…but it was hard when no one ever called his phone other than Dad or Dean….and neither of them were likely to be calling him right now. The number was new, thanks to the re-establishment of the phone networks globally and Sam had been careful about who he gave it to.

Finally, the phone went to voicemail…and then began to ring again. This time, Sam couldn't ignore it. He sighed in resignation, stepped back from Elise with an apologetic smile and pulled the phone out of his pocket. His eyes widened with surprise at the caller ID and he quickly answered the call. " Sarah? Hey….how are you? Everything okay?"

Elise frowned slightly, buttoning her shirt up again before she pushed past Sam, not wanting to get caught in here if nothing was going to happen now. Was this the same Sarah that Sam had spoken of before? The one he had fallen for, but left behind? Why was she ringing Sam? Why had Sam given her his number for that matter?

"What? When was the last one? And you're sure it was the same painting? No…no, I didn't mean that. I know this is your area of expertise. Okay, okay, I'm sorry. It just seems a little strange, that's all." Sam said, as he stepped out of the pantry, still talking into his phone. "So where's the painting supposed to be now? Okay…wait a minute, I just need to grab a pen and paper."

Elise pulled the notepad and small stub of a pencil off the wall beside Bobby's phone and handed them to Sam. She couldn't help but smile slightly as he mouthed _thank you _and gave her a smile in return. Maybe the phone call was innocent, but Elise couldn't help but be a little curious as to why Sam had given his number to Sarah?

"Yeah…yeah, you too. I'll call you when I know more, okay? Thanks, Sarah…bye." Sam ended the call and slid the phone away into his pocket again.

Dean entered the house at last, with a dirty and dishevelled naked Connor tucked under his arm, still giggling at the trouble he had caused. "Where's Skye? I think we might need to tag team this guy to get him clean again."

"She went upstairs." Sam told him, calling out to Dean as he turned to go upstairs with Connor. " Hey, Dean…Sarah just called me."

"Sarah? Wait a minute….Sarah Blake? Art dealer Sarah? That chick you had the hots for back in Upstate New York?"

"Yeah, Dean. That Sarah." Sam was going to kill Dean. Slowly…with as much pain as possible.

"Wow….feisty little Sarah huh? What's she doing calling you, Sammy?" Dean asked with an evil grin, watching the nerve in Sam's jaw jumping now. It was all too amusing and Sam was just too easy to bait sometimes.

"She was calling about a hunt, Dean."

"Is that some sort of code there, Sam?" Dean teased, struggling to hold onto Connor as the kid squirmed like an eel in his arms.

"Dean…" Sam growled, well past finding any of this even remotely funny now. He knew Dean would always take any opportunity to stir him, finding amusement in Sam's discomfort. But this was beyond a joke. Elise was listening and Sam didn't want her feeling threatened by Sarah.

"Alright, aright." Dean conceded, still grinning. " What sort of a hunt?"

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

"A hunt? Now? You're kidding me, right? You and Sam haven't hunted in months." Skye looked up at Dean as she rinsed the last of the shampoo from Connor's hair. " Dean, you don't have time to be hunting right now. Not with the baby due soon and….well…the other thing." She glanced at Connor for a moment, careful not to let Connor know anything was wrong. Her son had no idea what Dean was facing and she never wanted him to know either.

Connor was calmly sailing his toy sailboat through the bathwater as Skye sat on the edge of the bath,. He finally looked clean again, giving Dean a cheeky grin and trying to flick water towards the hunter as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Connor! Stop that! You're getting water all over the floor." Skye admonished quietly.

"Okay, Mommy." Connor looked at her with wide blue eyes, trying on his most innocent, angelic look.

"Oh no, don't you try pulling that look on me, mister." Skye told her son, before she turned back to Dean.

"I'll be gone a few days, maybe a week or two, tops. This is what I do, Skye, you know that. I can't sit around if there are people out there in trouble. People that need me and Sam. I have to do this."

Skye stood and approached Dean, resting her hands on his waist as he placed one his hands on her belly. He was rewarded with a kick that brought a beaming smile to his face. It seemed that lately, whenever Skye curled up behind Dean in bed, the baby would take that as a signal to start kicking the hell out of him. It was the strangest feeling ever and one that Dean loved to experience. He wondered if he had done that to his father? If Sam had? Feeling his baby moving inside of Skye just brought it home all the more, that this was really happening.

"I know you need this, Dean. I never wanted you to change who you are for me. I'm just scared that's all. Scared that we're running out of time here."

Dean knew that it was an issue. It was a big reason why he needed this hunt. Dean needed to forget about the deal for just a minute, turn his focus to something else before it drove him insane. A hunt was the perfect solution. "Dad and Bobby will keep looking for ways to break the deal, babe. I just need to get out of here for a while. I need to do what I'm good at."

"You'll keep in touch, though, right? You won't leave your phone set to voicemail? Or have it switched off?"

"You know me better than that, Skye."

"I know….I'm sorry. I'm just nervous, that's all."

Dean pressed a kiss to her the top of her head and pulled Skye close, wrapping his arms around her. Looking over her shoulder, he could see Connor watching them both. "Hey…a little privacy here?"

Connor laughed, kicking his feet in the bath and sending more water over the floor. "You silly, Daddy."

"So when are you leaving?"

"First thing in the morning." Dean told her, still holding Skye close. He was excited to finally be hunting again, doing something that came naturally to him. But as excited as he was, Dean also knew he was going to be missing Skye and Connor, plus constantly worrying about the pregnancy. It was all new territory for him….

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

"Sammy, you make sure we have those extra salt rounds packed?" Dean called as he stepped out onto the front porch of Bobby's house with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Skye was only a few steps behind him, still dressed in one of Dean's over sized white t-shirts and sweat pants. Connor was still asleep and that was for the best, because she didn't know how he would handle Dean going away hunting again.

"Yeah, we're good to go, dude." Sam had already double checked the trunk for everything they might need, before he closed the hidden floor and threw his duffel bag inside. Elise was standing nearby, chewing on her lip and trying to look less worried about this trip than she was. Sam left the trunk open for Dean and went to Elise, sliding his arms around her waist and leaning down to kiss her deeply. " You gonna be okay?"

"No, I'm going to fall apart in your absence." Elise retorted with slow, easy sarcasm, grinning as she saw the smile it drew out of Sam. It was a better look than the concerned one he'd had all morning. "You just watch yourself….come back in one piece, mate…or I'll kick your arse."

"I think I need to watch out for you more than what's out there…" Sam quipped, kissing her again. They'd lain awake half the night, discussing Sarah. Sam had assured Elise that she had nothing to worry about. The only reason he had given her the number, was due to her knowledge of artwork and the fact she was an excellent resource.

It hadn't completely eased Elise's fears, but she trusted Sam. She held his hand until he climbed into the passenger side of the Impala, then leaned in to give him one last kiss before she began to walk back to the porch.

Dean caught Elise near the front step and gently pulled her aside. "Hey, what I was saying last night. You know I was kidding right? Sam might have picked up a lot of things off me over the years, but having a girl in every port was definitely not one of them. He's only got eyes for you, dude."

"I know…" Elise smiled for a moment before she became more serious. "Thanks, Dean. I appreciate you saying that."

Dean winked at Elise and continued to the Impala, throwing his bag in the trunk and slamming it shut. He walked back to the steps, where Skye was waiting for him, placing a hand on her belly again and feeling the baby wriggle against his palm. Dean looked up and locked eyes with Skye for a moment, before she leaned down, allowing Dean to capture her lips in a kiss and draw her close. After a moment, he hugged her tight, burying his face against her neck and inhaling her scent deeply.

Skye felt tears prickling her eyes as he stood up at last and backed away a step or two, still holding her hands. With a shaky, embarrassed laugh, Skye let him go and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. "Damn hormones…making me look stupid."

"I'll be back before you know it." Dean told her, seeing his father and Bobby emerging from the house. Bobby gave Dean a curt nod before he went back to sipping his coffee. The man was never sociable until he'd had at least three of those heart starting brews in the morning.

John followed Dean to the car, closing the door for him as Dean slid behind the wheel, then crouching down to talk to his boys. "You watch your backs, boys. If things get rough? You get out of there and call me and Bobby for back up, you hear me?"

"Yes sir." Sam and Dean answered in unison. It took them back to the days when they had all hunted as a family. Both Sam and Dean felt better with the knowledge that not only Bobby…but their father was there to back them up if needed. It was something Dean had missed every minute of every day after John's death.

"Dad, watch out for Skye for me, okay?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, Dean, you know I will."

John stepped back as the Impala fired up, heading back to the house where the girls were watching the muscle car drive away.

"Dean, what did you say to Elise before?" Sam looked at his brother, last night conversation still playing on his mind.

Dean glanced in the rear view mirror briefly, catching a glimpse of Skye as they pulled out the gate. He shot a sideways look at Sam. "I told her not to worry about you…."

"You did?" Sam hadn't expected that answer.

"Yeah…" Dean answered easily before a smirk appeared. "I mean, with all those hot women looking at me? There's no way any of them are ever catching your eye."

"Oh ha ha, Dean."

"Hey, it's not my fault I got all the looks, dude." Dean grinned, reaching over the crank the stereo and drown out his brother as he watched Sam begin to laugh.

**xxxxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx**


	2. On the road again

_A/N: Okay..finally an update! LOL Sorry this took so long, folks and I hope it was worth the wait. Thanks as always to Deb for her feedback and HUGE thanks to Tara aka LovinJackson for her ideas and help. This chapter owes a lot to her. _

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Fredrickstown, Upstate New York...**

"You're kidding me, right? This is all some kind of prank or something? " Dean glanced at his brother as the Impala cut through the quiet town streets with a low, throaty rumble.

"According the map? This is the place...this is where Sarah said she'd meet us." Sam double checked the map one last time before he folded it up and stashed it back in the glove compartment. He looked out the window at the quiet neighbourhood, the white washed fences, the neatly manicured lawns and cottage style gardens. It was all very picturesque and with one look at his brother, Sam could see Dean was quietly freaking out.

Horrified might be a term closer to what he was seeing. Dean's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, the Black Sabbath grinding out of the stereo doing nothing to ease the tension Sam could see building inside his brother. "Dude, you okay?"

There was a moment of silence between the brothers, although it was more a moment of non conversation than literal silence thanks to the music, but Sam watched as Dean seemed to be mentally assessing his answer carefully before a strained, "No..."

"Dude, you really need to get over your fear of surburbia."

"This isn't suburbia, Sam...it's the fucking Stepford Wives. " Dean retorted, looking uneasily at the houses around him. "Look at this place, Sammy. It's off a freaking postcard! It's like Martha Stewart wasn't happy just making a name for herself...she had to make a whole town."

He mock shuddered at the thought and glared as Sam began to snigger. "What?"

"You, man. Would you prefer if the place looked like the Bronx?"

" I might fit in better..." Dean muttered, turning his attention fully to the road again.

Sam shook his head again, smiling to himself. He knew that his brother had always had issues with suburban life. Dean had openly stated it on several occasions. But watching him now was something else. This was more than an aversion to nine to five jobs and a manicured lawn. This was Dean feeling out of sorts within himself because they were back on the road hunting. Something that Dean loved to do...but something that now felt slightly out of place too. Sam knew that for once in his life, Dean had more on his mind than just the hunt and Sam's safety.

Sam watched a house as they cruised past, noting the pretty curtains in the windows, the soft lights shining out into the night air. It looked so warm and inviting. He pictured himself inside a house like that with Elise, curled up on the sofa together, thinking about raising a family maybe? Everything he had lost with Jess that Sam had thought he would never be allowed to dream of again. But it was within his grasp again and Sam found himself wanting it more and more.

" Where the hell is this motel, dude? Everything's looking the same to me."

"You know, you could let me drive?"

"Not a chance, Sam. I love my baby too much to worry about you bending her fenders avoiding one of those little green bastards you keep seeing."

"Dean, I haven't had hallucinations for months now!" Sam retorted.

"Hey for all I know? You could still be having acid trips from all the Lucky Charms you used to eat as a kid." Dean teased, trying to keep his face serious.

"Oh, ha, ha, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes and took a moment as they stopped at an intersection to get his bearings. With a quick nod of his head Sam told Dean, "Take a left, the motel should be about three blocks that way…"

"Think they've got cable?" Dean gave his brother a grin at last and swung the muscle car around the corner.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

The grumpy cigar chomping guy behind the desk at the motel office gave Dean hope….the state of the room when he turned the key and opened the door? Gave him almost a rush of pleasure. The grin plastered across his face was bright and beaming, like a kid at Christmas, as Dean walked straight over the nearest bed and flopped down on it.

Sam wasn't quiet so enthralled by their current living arrangements. It was like most of the crappy motel rooms they had ever stayed in through out their lives. A small remote controlled TV sat in the corner. The carpet might have once been cream…it now looked yellowed and borderline toxic. His bed sagged beneath him as Sam sat down on the edge of it and there was no way he wanted to speculate what might have happened in the past to make it that way.

"Dude…this is awesome."

The familiar clink of coins dropping into a coin box met Sam's ears, a split second before the instantly recognisable sound of Magic Fingers started up, followed by what was definitely a sigh of relief…even bliss, from Dean. Sam snorted with amusement, shaking his head. "You're right at home, huh?"

Dean raised his head off the bed, quirking an eyebrow in question at Sam. "What? Come on, Sam…look at this place. This is what we've been missing, dude! The open road…the crappy motel rooms…"

"Magic Fingers?"

"Hey, don't knock it til you try it, Sam. I'm telling you….this is awesome. What time are we meeting Sarah?"

"About an hour from now, The Black Rose restaurant. Why?"

Dean sat up with a knowing grin. "Cause I'm calling first shower, bitch. If you're lucky? I'll leave you some hot water so you can make yourself pretty for your date."

Sam flipped Dean the bird and shot him a withering look. "It's not a date, Dean."

"Does Sarah know that? Maybe she'll wear something slinky for you, Sammy?"

"I'm with Elise, Dean!"

Putting up his hands in a gesture of surrender, Dean couldn't stop chuckling. "Chill dude, I'm just pulling your chain. How about you see if this place gets any decent cable while I take my shower…."

**XxxxXXXXxxxxx**

Dean swung into the curb outside The Black Rose restaurant, the engine still idling for a moment before he pulled out again and drove away. He went around the block twice, before Sam finally couldn't take it any longer.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?"

"What? I'm looking for somewhere to park." Dean sounded like he was stating the obvious to his dim witted brother.

"What? Why? Dean…it's valet parking." That comment earned Sam a look of utter disbelief from Dean.

"You expect me to trust my car to some guy in a valet outfit? No way, Sam! I'll find us a parking space."

"Oh 'cause the street is so much safer for the car than valet parking? Come on, Dean! We're already ten minutes late…stop being a pain in the ass and let the valet do his job." Sam demanded. The look he was giving his brother didn't falter in the face of Dean's return scowl, the brothers remaining locked for another few heartbeats, before Dean finally conceded defeat and pulled the Impala to the curb. He climbed out, finding the valet already standing there patiently, his hand outstretched for the keys.

Dean began to hand over the keys, the snatched them back at the last minute, giving the valet a sharp glare. " I know _every _inch of this car, dude. I see one scratch--…?"

The threat went unsaid as Sam grabbed Dean by the arm and jerked his brother away from the valet, giving the guy a brief apologetic look as he took the keys from Dean, gave them to the valet, then hauled Dean inside The Black Rose. "I swear to god, Dean, Skye should be worried about the competition she has from that car."

"That's not funny, dude."

"I wasn't joking." Sam shot back, completely serious. He scanned the room as they entered, soon catching sight of Sarah. "Over there…and keep the comments about us being a cute couple to yourself, Dean. I mean it."

"Dude, I'm not a kid, you don't have to lay down the law."

"Yeah? Prove me wrong…" Sam smirked at Dean before they reached the table Sarah was sat at. The moment she saw the boys, Sarah was beaming, especially at Sam. She looked good; glowing even as she stood up and gave Sam a warm, tight hug. "Sam…it's so good to see you!"

Dean held back, receiving a warm smile from Sarah followed by a "Hey, Dean…"

"You're looking good, Sarah." Dean smiled in return, noticing the glare he was getting from Sam. As Sarah sat down, Dean silently mouthed _what? _to Sam, frowning slightly as they sat down in turn.

Sam immediately picked up a menu, opening it to give himself a distraction and allow his nerves to settle. Why the hell was he feeling so nervous about meeting Sarah? Glancing up from his menu for a moment, Sam caught the way Sarah was looking at him, as though she was recalling every line, every hair on his head. The brightness of her eyes and the soft, smile playing across her lips…..she was pleased to see Sam. Real pleased. His heart sank as he realised he would have to gently let her down and tell her about Elise. "So…Sarah, how have things been?"

The moment he asked the question, Sam felt like an idiot. He saw Dean roll his eyes and resisted the urge to kick him under the table. Any other time it would have been a perfectly normal question….but with the world still recovering? It seemed a stupid thing to ask.

"I've been okay." Sarah answered cautiously. "Things were tough for a while, but we managed to rebuild the business. My father's health suffered for a while, but the doctors think he'll be okay. I've taken over running the auction house for Dad while he's recovering." She paused and picked up her glass of water, taking a sip before continuing. "You two were involved with all that stuff that happened, weren't you?"

"Who? Us?" Dean automatically replied, offering a look of pure innocence, while inside, the defences were all going on red alert. "What makes you say that?"

"I just figured with everything you two know about that kind of stuff, you'd have to have been in the thick of it all." Sarah took another sip of her water, watching Dean. " I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing."

"No…no it's fine, really. It was a bad time for everyone." Sam assured her, trying to diffuse the situation. The last thing Sam wanted to start talking about, was how Dean had died, how they were both part demon now. Sarah didn't need to know just how involved they were with everything that had happened. "It's good to hear that things are getting better for you."

The waiter appeared, saving the moment for Sam and giving all of them a chance to catch a breath and change tack. After ordering their meals -- Sam wasn't at all surprised that his brother asked for a steak with all the trimmings, he was just grateful Dean hadn't asked for a burger -- Sam was handed the wine list and immediately his mind rushed back to that first dinner with Sarah. This time however, he avoided the awkwardness and simply ordered a round of beers for them all.

There was awkward silence at the table for a moment, before Sarah spoke up. "It really is good to see you again, Sam. You look good. Real good. More at home with yourself than the last time I saw you…although you were looking pretty good back then too."

Sam almost choked as his mouthful of beer went down the wrong way. He let a short cough, his eyes watering as he nodded and gasped out a strained, "Thanks."

Dean rolled his eyes, watching Sarah's body language and seeing the girl watching his brother's every move. Although Dean had to admit, he thought he was the one that tended to leave a lasting impression on the women…maybe his brother was learning after all?

Sam was looking down at the bread roll sitting in front of him, his eyes flitting to Sarah, then back to the roll.

Dean would have found the whole thing immensely amusing, if it wasn't for the fact Dean actually liked both Sarah and Elise. It was time to let his brother off the hook….before Sam had a panic attack, because right now he was looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. As discreetly as he could, Dean slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. He kept smiling at Sarah, trying not to look suspicious or awkward as he watched her and Sam avoiding eye contact. They were as bad as each other….

Moving as quickly as he could, Dean finished sending a text message, then slipped his phone back in his pocket and picked up his beer, taking a long draw on it. A moment later, his cell phone beeped, alerting him to a message and Dean retrieved his phone from his pocket with a sheepish grin. " Sorry, guys…I thought it was turned off."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, wondering what the hell he was up to? If he thought he was going to bail and leave him alone with Sarah……

Dean took a moment to look at the message he had sent to himself, before he closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket, all smiles again at Sarah and Sam. "That was Skye….I gotta give her a call later and tell Connor goodnight."

"Skye?" Sarah was curious. Dean had a girlfriend? He hadn't seemed the type to settle with any one girl.

"Yeah, you'd love Skye. Got the cutest kid…I've got them on my wallpaper…we're expecting a baby in a few months too." Dean handed the phone over to Sarah, beaming like a proud father, before he turned to Sam. "Oh yeah, Skye said Elise wants you to call her later, dude."

"You've got a girlfriend, Sam? Why didn't you tell me? That's sweet…" Sarah was smiling but Sam could see the disappointment in her eyes. She looked at the photo of the darkhaired woman with a little boy on her lap. The boy was too old to be Dean's and she was surprised that he'd found himself a ready made family. " That's a lovely photo, Dean…." She handed the phone back to him and had a sip of her beer.

"I…I guess it just didn't come up." Sam smiled, embarrassed. "What…what about you? You haven't met anyone?"

"Me? No…no-one yet, but I've had a few guys ask me out on dates…."

"Hey, that's great…really." Sam said enthusiastically. He genuinely hoped to see Sarah happy one day, because Sam knew he still cared for her…but his heart was owned by Elise now. Later, he would kick Dean's ass for what he had done. Sam wasn't an idiot…but he also owed Dean for helping him out too.

Now that the cat was out of the bag about Elise, Dean figured it was time to get around to business. "So, Sarah…you said to Sam over the phone about paintings? I'm getting a major sense of deja vu here. What is it with you and creepy ass paintings?"

Sam gave him an incredulous look that Dean ignored, keeping his attention on Sarah instead.

Sarah merely laughed quietly, not at all thrown by the question. "I wouldn't have called you guys if it wasn't for the fact I've seen the same thing happen twice now. But it's been the same painting each time. We had it come through the Auction house after the family that owned it were killed in a fire…the painting was one of the few things to survive and it was perfectly intact. No water damage, no smoke damage…not a scratch."

"That could be coincidence, Sarah." Sam ventured.

"One fire, yeah. But two? The same painting each time coming through unscathed while the family dies and the house burns to the ground?"

Sam and Dean swapped a brief look between them, certain things about what Sarah had said, clicking with Sam. He'd heard about something like this before. Maybe tomorrow, they would see if the library was open, do a little research.

"Do you have the painting at the auction house?" Sam asked, curious to see it.

"No…it was claimed by a relative after the second fire. I do have an address for them though, I can get it out of the car for you after dinner?"

"Sounds good." Dean agreed as the waiter appeared with their food at last. His stomach rumbled at the sight of the huge tender steak, surrounded by baby potatoes and vegetables. Sam had ordered some sort of Salmon dish that sounded a little too flowery for Dean's palette, but was definitely something he could imagine his brother eating. Sometimes Dean wondered if Sam went out of his way to order the sort of fancy food that you would never find in a diner? Maybe it was his brother's way of keeping that sense of normality? Something apart from the hunting?

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. Sam began to relax through his meal and by the time it came to dessert, he was laughing and talking to Sarah like old times. Dean was a little quieter, choosing to observe a little more for once and noting that his brother was still holding something back, some part of himself that was reserved only for Elise. It told Dean how serious Sam was about the girl, that he had completely fallen for her…not that Dean hadn't already suspected it. But seeing the way Sam was openly friendly, but not familiar with Sarah, a girl he had cared for…still did in a lot of ways, told Dean volumes.

It was good to see. Dean wanted that for his brother. Had done ever since he had watched Sam grieve over Jess for months after her death. Some part of the kid would never recover from that…but Dean knew now that Sam was healing. Really healing.

But before they knew it, the night was over and Sarah had to leave. Sam and Dean walked her out to the pickup area for the valet parking, ever the gentlemen, although both of them were watching every corner and shadow for danger, including Dean discreetly checking the backseat of the car itself when it arrived.

Sarah tipped the valet, then opened the door and reached in to retrieve the address the boys would need for the painting. Handing it to Sam, Sarah smiled and for a moment, stood on her tip toes to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek. "Thank you for coming, Sam. For agreeing to help. It really means a lot to me. When you speak to Elise? Tell her she's got herself a good catch…"

Sam blushed instantly, a sheepish grin appearing as he ran a hand through his mop of hair. "Uhhh, yeah….I will. So will you be around tomorrow? At the auction house if we need you?"

"No." Sarah said, a touch of regret in her voice. "I've got to leave in the morning to deal with business for a few days. The joys of handling the family business alone at the moment I guess?"

"Oh we know all about that." Dean nodded, remembering how many times he tried to drum into Sam over those months of Dad being missing, that their job was important. " You take of yourself, okay? It was good seeing you again, Sarah."

"You too, Dean. You keep looking out for your brother, okay?" With that, Sarah climbed into her car and after a moment, the boys were staring at nothing but a set of tail-lights.

Dean turned to find the valet standing patiently waiting to receive his ticket. Handing it over, Dean paced the sidewalk waiting for the Impala, glaring at Sam when he noticed his shoulders shaking with laughter. "Just what the hell is so funny?"

"You. Look at you, Dean. Pacing? How the hell are you gonna go when the baby is born?"

The only reply Sam received was a sour look and a middle finger salute. Dean brightened a moment later as he heard the purr of the Impala's engine and she appeared at the curb beside him. Without missing a beat, Dean walked around her, running his hand over her lines and inspecting her for any dents or damage. Only when he was satisfied, did he hand the valet a ten dollar tip and take his keys back. Sliding behind the wheel again, he was still checking the interior over when Sam climbed in and rolled his eyes. "Can we just go…please?"

"Oh keep your shorts on, Bitcherella. I'll get you home before you turn into a pumpkin." Dean grinned at his brother and gunned the engine, pulling away into the night.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

Sam was stretched out on his bed, trying to relax. Dean had left for some beers a good twenty minutes beforehand and Sam knew that meant he could easily be gone for up to an hour…maybe more if something had caught his attention. All Sam had wanted to do when he reached the motel room, was call Elise. He needed to hear her voice, just have that contact with her…touch base and feel grounded again.

"_Skye's been so crook, Sam…you should have seen it. Your dad was cooking bacon and eggs for Connor and Skye all but ran out of the house. I shouldn't laugh, but you just never know what will set her off at the moment. Half an hour later? She wanted hash browns….it's bloody crazy. If that's pregnancy? You can bloody well keep it." Elise laughed down the line._

The sound of her laugh set an ache in Sam's chest. He suddenly felt so very alone and all he could think of was curling his arms around Elise and letting her head rest on his chest. Hopefully this hunt would be over with quickly and he could get back to her. But just knowing she was at Bobby's while he was hours away in Upper New York state was frustrating. Was Dean feeling this too? He had to be…he had Connor and a new baby on the way. It had to be just as bad for his brother.

"_So everything's going okay? You met up with Sarah alright?" There was a slight hesitation in her voice. _

Sam knew that his being near Sarah was still a touchy subject, no matter how much Elise trusted him. Especially then they were so new to the relationship still. " Everything's fine. Sarah gave us some information that we'll be checking tomorrow. Hopefully we can find this painting, destroy it and be back soon." Sam paused, a smile teasing the corner of his lips before he spoke again. "She says you've got one hell of a catch…"

"_You told her about me?"_

"Of course I did…" Sam wasn't going to go into the details of Dean's little ruse, however. "It made me think even more about how much I'm missing you."

"_You are, huh? Good…cause I'm really missing you too, Sam. I know it's only been a day or so, but it just feels so much longer already…"_

Sam could hear the longing in her voice and closed his eyes, picturing her in his mind. "Hey…you alone right now?"

"_Yeah….?" _

Elise drew the word out slowly and Sam could already picture the cheeky smile on her face. "So…uh….what are you wearing?"

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

The Impala had been sat in the parking lot for the last five minutes. Dean was still behind the wheel, a six pack of Bud on the seat beside him, moisture beginning to bead on the bottles as he listened to Skye on his cell phone.

"_Connor's sleeping with that toy Impala you guys bought him….and he insisted on a photo of you beside the bed. Apparently he wanted to know his Daddy is watching over him."_

Dean felt his heart clench a little and it amazed him just how much he missed Skye and Connor at that moment. It felt so good being back on the road, back hunting and doing what had come naturally to him for most of his life. As if he was back where he belonged. But there was more to it now. Dean was finally starting to realise why Sam had wanted to go home after Jericho….and it had nothing to do with that job interview. It had been about going back to a life that Sam was part of. Normal, nice…knowing that he would wake up with the same woman every morning. Someone that loved him with all his flaws.

Dean had never thought about it in the past. It had never been a big deal to him as long as he had a steady stream of hot and cold women to pass the hours when he needed them, all was right in his world.

But now he'd had a taste of normal. A taste of what Sam had always wanted, what Dad had always been fighting for. It made sense now.

Dean was a father now…was going to be a father again to a child of his own. He had a woman that loved him, that was missing him, lying in his bed and wishing he was there. It was what he had always wanted…and here he was, sitting in the parking lot of a crappy motel, with only six months left before his soul, his life, was cashed in.

But Dean also knew that this hunt, tracking down whatever was killing these families…it was important. He was saving lives, saving other little boys from being afraid of the dark. Skye would never tell him to stop hunting and that was one more reason why he loved her. He was completely accepted for who and what he was…

"How are you doing?" Dean asked at last, feeling the phantom touch of her skin under his fingertips, the warmth of her body when she would roll over and curl up behind him.

"_Me? Oh you know how it is….nausea, heartburn…a tiny set of feet kicking the hell out of me whenever I decide to try and rest." There was a pause for a moment before, "I'm wearing one of your shirts. It smells like you….makes me think you're here and helps me sleep…"_

"Just don't go expecting me to do the same thing…I'm not sure Sammy's ready to see me in a pair of your underwear." Dean smirked and heard Skye giggle down the line. It was good to hear her laughing. "Everything's okay though? Dad and Bobby driving you crazy yet?"

"_They've been bitching back and forth like an old married couple over some books Bobby got his hands on, but yeah, everything's good. How'd Sam go with Sarah?"_

"You want me to snitch on Sammy?"

_Skye laughed again. "You were the one that made Elise so nervous, Dean. I'm just curious."_

"Sure you are…" Dean chuckled before he sighed, "I'd better go. If I leave Sam alone too long, he's likely to run up a cable porn bill that would pay for Hugh Hefner's mansion parties for a year."

Dean heard a slight sigh from Skye and knew she was reluctant to hang up the call. "We'll be home soon, babe. This hunt seems simple enough…shouldn't take long."

" _I know….I just miss you." _

"Back at you…" Dean answered, closing off a little as a defence mechanism. He didn't need his emotions clouding his judgement on this hunt. "I'll call you again soon, babe…."

Ending the call, Dean tucked his phone into his pocket and leaned forward for a moment, resting his head on the steering wheel as he composed himself. Then with a huff of tired air, Dean sat up, opened the door, grabbed the beer and headed for the motel room.

Dean was juggling the six pack in his arms as he unlocked the door and pushed it open……

"And my hand is sliding along your thigh--…oh shit, Dean! Uhh…I…uuhhh"

Dean froze in the doorway as he saw Sam bolting upright on the bed, his face flushed with guilt, phone still clutched to one ear.

"Oh god…" Dean tried to spin on his heel and head back out the door again, almost connecting his head with the door itself in his haste.

"You could have knocked!"

"It's my room! I don't have to freaking knock, dude! You could have used the freaking bathroom or hung a sock on the door or something!"

" I wasn't doing anything! I'm just talking on the phone, Dean!" Sam said indignantly, before he realised he still had the phone in his hand. He put it back to his ear hurriedly. "Elise? Sorry…yeah, I'd better go. I'll…I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you too…"

Dean still had his back to Sam as he heard his brother close his phone. "You about done? I mean, if you need to take a cold shower, dude.."

"I wasn't doing anything!" Sam insisted furiously.

Dean risked a look over his shoulder, then turned and entered the room properly again, closing the door behind him. Sam was standing beside the bed, hands on his hips and an indignant, classic pissy bitch face showing.

Dean looked at his brother for a moment, then smirked in amusement and pointed. "Uhhh, your belt's still unbuckled, Mr Denial."

Sam let out a slow huff of defeat, his eyes sliding closed before he stalked off towards the bathroom. "You're a real asshole sometimes, Dean."

"Hey…sock. Door handle. That's all I'm saying." Dean shrugged casually.

The only response he received was a middle finger salute before the bathroom door slammed. Still chuckling, Dean put the beers in the small fridge in the room, breaking one out for himself and his brother first. He picked up the remote off the end of his bed and started flipping through channels until he found a screening of Harley Davidson and The Marlboro Man.

Getting comfortable on his bed, Dean held the beer out to his brother as Sam exited the bathroom a few minutes later. With another huff of air, Sam slumped down on his bed, snagging the beer from Dean's outstretched hand, twisting the top off and taking a long draw on the bottle.

"We okay?" Dean ventured after a moment, his tone neutral.

"Yeah…we're okay. You're still an asshole. Your timing sucks." Sam grumbled, before he glanced at Dean, a small smile twitching his lips.

"Come on…it's like that time I walked in and caught you using Dad's new card on one of those phone sex lines." Dean grinned.

Sam almost groaned as he recalled that night. He'd been barely thirteen and all day the other boys in his class had been talking about the hotline. Sam had thought it sounded stupid…but the longer he thought about it, the more his teenage hormones and curiosity had kicked in. Sam had been on the phone barely half an hour before Dean had walked in and caught him. " I thought you said you'd never bring that up again?"

"Hey, I took the rap for that, dude. Dad had me up and running laps at five am every morning for a month over that one. Cut me some slack."

"Alright, alright…I'm going to get sleep. We should check that address first thing…" Sam drained the rest of his beer, then pulled back the covers on his bed and climbed in.

Dean shut the light off, leaving only the TV illuminating the room. After a couple of minutes, Dean spoke up again. "Hey, Sam?"

"What, Dean?"

"You got it right this time didn't you? With Elise? I mean…you weren't talking to her like you did that phone sex chick, right?"

Sam rolled over and glared at Dean. "I was thirteen! What the fuck did I know about phone sex?"

"Point taken…but Calculus, dude? How the hell are we related?" Dean asked, grinning. He was forced to duck in a hurry as one of Sam's boots sailed past his head.

"Dean? Shut the fuck up!"

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

_So there we go...hope you liked. I'll reveal more about the hunt next chapter..._


	3. A Dangerous Turn Of Events

_A/N: As always, much thanks has to go out to Lovinjackson and Deb for thier tireless efforts of putting up with my insecurities. LOL This chapter delves a little more into the hunt and ended up taking a different turn towards the end than it was originally meant to. But I blame Kripke for that...cause September seems so far away still. LOL Hope you all enjoy. I'll try and keep updating as often as I am...and in case you haven't seen already, I have a new Dean and Skye vid up at Youtube. Link to my YT page is on my bio page as always. _

**xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxx**

_The soft, almost mewling sound of a baby's cry awoke Dean and he rubbed at his eyes blearily, glancing at the clock beside him. Two am? You had to be kidding…_

_A soft groan beside him alerted Dean to Skye's presence and he rolled over, snaking an arm around her waist as he snuggled in close to her. He was rewarded by Skye grabbing his hand and gently moving it away. "Dean…you promised. It's your turn to get the baby…"_

_Damn. He had too. They'd made an agreement that if the baby woke through the night, Dean would bring him back to bed so that Skye could feed the baby there without being disturbed too much. Letting a soft sigh of resignation, Dean pressed a warm kiss to Skye's bare shoulder and slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweat pants before he walked barefoot to the nursery. The baby was still crying, becoming more throaty and determined with each passing minute._

"_Okay, okay, little guy….take it easy. You'll wake up the whole house the way you're going….and trust me, Bobby's not a pretty sight without sleep." Dean spoke in hushed tones as he opened the door and approached the crib. He frowned at the sight of the empty blanket that greeted him, still hearing the cries around him, but unable to locate his son._

_Dean pulled the blanket aside, panic building within him. Where the hell was his son? Had something taken him? Why could he hear him but not see him?_

_There was a sudden growling behind him, sending a icy cold chill up his spine. Dean turned towards the doorway, realising he was completely unarmed as he saw a hellhound crouched there, the baby at it's feet. There was no crying now…the baby was gurgling contentedly as it tried to reach up for the hound above it. _

"_Get away from him…" Dean warned the hellhound, taking note of it's slavering jaws and how that horrible, acidic looking drool was barely missing his son as it dripped to the floor. The hound took a step forward, then leapt at Dean, catching him high in the chest. He was driven back into the crib, shattering it as he fell, feeling the dog's claws tearing open his chest, ripping into the soft flesh of his stomach as he screamed. It's jaws locked around Dean's throat, biting down with a hot spurt of blood that stopped his screams and let the last thing Dean ever heard as his throat was torn away….be the sound of his son crying. _

With a startled cry, Dean bolted upright in bed, knotted up in sheets that were soaked with sweat. He felt trapped, still fighting for his life furiously as a pair of large hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently.

"Dean….DEAN!"

With a gasp, Dean blinked and took a shaky breath, suddenly realising that Sam was in front of him, his face full of concern for his brother.

"You okay? You with me?" Sam asked softly, not like the way Dean was shivering underneath his hands. This was something Sam wasn't used to seeing. Dean didn't show fear. He went out of his way to hide it. But whatever he'd been dreaming about had him seriously freaked.

"I'm okay….M'good." Dean nodded, still trembling and not sounding at all sure of himself. He ran a shaky hand over his short, bristle hair and disentangled himself from the sheets. " I need a shower…"

Sam was left sitting alone on the bed, frustrated as Dean disappeared into the small bathroom of their motel room. Why did he have to shut him out like that? Dean didn't have to deal with everything alone, but it was as if there was this unspoken rule that demanded he do exactly that.

There was no point in sitting there, worrying about it. Sam looked at his watch and saw that it was just after seven in the morning. In a couple of hours, they could hit up the local library and find out more about those fires. Sam wished he could just surf the internet like usual, but it wasn't up and running yet…a casualty of the demon outbreak.

So for now, they would have to resort to newspaper reports and microfiche. It didn't worry Sam in the slightest. He enjoyed the old school aspects of a case sometimes….but Dean? Oh he was going to go crazy…musty old books and hours of microfiche were not his idea of research.

It was another twenty minutes before Dean surfaced from the bathroom again, towelling his hair dry and looking more like his old self. The cloud of steam that had erupted from the room as the door had opened, told Sam that he was looking at a cold shower if he tried to have one. Rolling his eyes at that bit of luck, he decided to just get dressed instead. "Feeling any better?"

"Me?" Dean looked at Sam as though it was a strange question to ask. " Never better, dude. I'm starving though, how about we go and get some breakfast huh? I'm sure I saw a diner down the street last night."

Dean dropped the towel on the floor beside his bed as he sat down to pull on some socks and his boots. The feeling of eyes burning a hole through his back had Dean twisting to look over his shoulder at Sam. "Dude…what?"

Sam's arms were crossed over his chest as he spoke. "You. Putting on the big show of everything being just fine as always."

"Everything is fine."

"That's crap, Dean. How long have you been having those nightmares?"

Dean turned around more so he was facing his brother, the look he was throwing Sam warning him to back the hell off. "I said I was fine, Sammy. Let it go."

"Why, Dean? It obviously scared the hell out of you. Why won't you talk about it?"

"Because I don't want to, alright?" Dean snapped, launching to his feet angrily. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on, regretting losing his temper with Sam. He knew his brother was just looking out for him, but Dean didn't want to talk about the dreams, about how he saw himself die…or worse, dreamt of being tortured in Hell. It scared him deeply and Dean needed to keep that to himself.

"I could find out for myself, you know." Sam pushed softly, still watching his brother with a defiant stance to his body.

"What the hell's that supposed to me-…" Dean's eyes widened for a moment as he realised exactly what Sam meant. The link…the mental bond they had shared while Sam was missing. It had never left them. If anything, it was growing stronger, with Dean always aware of where Sam was without having to see him. It was reassuring….but not in this case. He straightened, jabbing a finger in the air towards Sam. "You stay the hell out of my head. I don't want you poking around in there…you hear me?"

"Dean…."

"No, Sam! That's final. If I want to talk about my dreams? I'll go see a fucking shrink or get so out of my skull drunk, that I don't know what I'm telling you…but you go poking around in my head? And we're gonna have a problem."

"Okay…" Sam said softly, barely audible as he gave in, his shoulders sagging.

"Excuse me?"

"I said okay. I won't do it." Sam spoke up louder, his tone almost petulant.

Dean became all smiles again, picking up the Impala keys from the nightstand. "Good. Now get your ass into gear…I'm starving. You've got five minutes or you're walking…"

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

The diner was like any other they had been in over the years. Sam wondered sometimes if they did that deliberately for people who constantly lived on the road? As if changing the décor too much would upset the balance or something? Disrupt that feeling of familiarity and reassurance? Looking around him casually as they waited for someone to come and take their order, Sam wondered just how many other people in here, lived a life on the road?

Dean was fidgeting with a paper napkin, lost in his own thoughts before they were interrupted by a short, red headed waitress called Carrie, according to her name tag. "What can I get you boys?"

Before Sam could even open his mouth, Dean had jumped in, ordering enough food to feed a small country.

"I'll have eggs, sausage, bacon with a side order of hash browns…..uhhh, some fried chicken if you have any…and have you got any fresh mangoes?" Dean gave the waitress a wide, friendly grin.

"Mangoes?" Carrie scratched her head with the end of her pencil. "I think Kathy might have made a fresh peach and mango cobbler this morning?"

"Sounds great! I'll have a huge slice of that too…oh and the biggest cup of coffee you have. With cream and sugar."

Carrie made note of it all before she turned to Sam. "And you, hun?"

"Uhhh, just some bacon and eggs, side order of toast and a black coffee, thanks." Sam ordered, still wondering what the hell had gotten into Dean. The moment Carrie was gone with a brief smile for both boys, Sam looked at his brother. "What the hell, Dean?"

"What? I said I was starving…"

"Fried chicken? For breakfast?"

Dean shrugged, getting a little defensive. "I feel like chicken… what? Is that a crime now?"

"No, no…" Sam put his hands up to placate his brother, a smile growing on his lips. "But since when have you ever eaten mango before?"

"I've eaten mangos…"

"No, Dean. You haven't. The only fruit I've seen you eat? Comes in a pie filling…and you asked for _fresh _mango."

"You going somewhere with this?" Dean sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and watching Sam.

"You've got cravings…" Sam sniggered, finding it all too amusing.

"I do not." Dean objected. "Cravings? That's….that's what.."

"A pregnant woman gets?" Sam offered. "Dude, you wait til I tell Skye…"

"You do and you're a deadman." Dean warned, leaning forward again. He looked around them for a moment, making sure no one else was listening as he lowered his voice. "So…this craving thing….it's normal? For guys I mean?"

Sam was finding it harder and harder not to laugh, his smile becoming wider by the minute as he saw the earnest worry in Dean's eyes. "Yeah, Dean. It's normal. Relax…."

Dean bobbed his head for a moment, sharp and curt, trying to act cool. As though he had known that all along, but Sam could see the relief uncoiling through his shoulders. His brother could be so knowledgeable about the supernatural world….but make him a Dad? And the guy was completely out of his depth.

"So I was thinking we would hit up the library when it opens, find out about those fires? It could be an idea before we go out to see the guy who has the painting…" Sam offered, letting Dean off the hook by turning to business.

"Good call, Sammy. So what do you think we're dealing with here? Pissed off spirit? I mean, it sounds like the painting's haunted…"

"Yeah. We'd just better hope if that's the case, we can track down the remains easily enough…"

"Sounds more promising than all that library research…" Dean smirked.

Carried returned with their orders and the food smelt as good as it looked, both boys digging in instantly. But it was the reaction Sam saw from Dean as he bit down into the mango and peach cobbler, that was the best. It was as if Dean had finally scratched an itch that had been driving him crazy. Dean closed his eyes in sheer bliss, making a soft groan of delight as he ate forkful after forkful.

Sam watched his brother, enjoying seeing him like this. It was rare and with that deal looming, Sam was willing to savour any moment with his brother, but especially one like this, seeing him be himself. Sam wanted more moments like this…

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxx**

Bored? Dean wasn't bored….bored was too simple a term for what he was feeling. This had almost become a personal torment. They'd been sat in the same small, poorly ventilated room for hours looking through so much microfiche, that Dean was getting a migraine.

Sam was in his element, but he was beginning to look tired himself. After all their searching, he had been able to find the two news articles that they needed about the fires….but nothing beyond that. The painting only seemed to have struck those two families.

"Sam, tell me we have what we need, dude. If I don't get out of here I swear, I won't be accountable for my actions…" Dean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a moment.

"Well we have what we need about the fires, but that's it."

"That'll have to do then. You get any addresses for where those fires happened?" Dean asked, already thinking ahead.

"Yeah…"

"Well then let's go. Maybe it's time we checked out where the fires happened? Cause I seriously need the fresh air, man."

Sam snorted, an amused smile on his lips. "I was the one that had to read through all this stuff, Dean. I think you at least owe me a coffee for doing all the work while you sat on your ass, annoying me."

"I was offering morale support, dude." Dean told him as they stood up at last. He stretched and listened to the audible pop of his spine before he let out a sigh of relief. Sam was smirking at him, but as they left the library, Dean could see there was a tightness in Sam's back too and he fought the urge to make a smart assed comment. It had been a while since either of them had researched like that, but as boring as it had been, Dean had enjoyed being back in a library. It had reminded him of all the hunts they had done over the years and it reassured him that Sam could handle this side of it alone if Dean didn't get out of the deal.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

They drove out to the scene of the first fire, finding nothing but a empty lot. The entire house had been burnt to the ground and what had been left standing was knocked down for safety reasons soon afterwards.

Dean walked around what remained of the floor of the house, his EMF meter in his hand, looking for any signs of activity. Sam had taken the perimeter of the house, in case something had been left behind or missed.

"Sam, you got anything?" Dean glanced up from his EMF to the back of the house pad, meeting his brother's gaze as Sam shook his head.

"Nah, nothing, dude. If there was anything here? It's long gone. Maybe we should check the other house? That fire was only a week ago." Sam suggested, walking back to where Dean was standing. It was a warm, sun filled day and if the boys hadn't known the history of the land they were standing on, it would have been pleasant. But a newly wed couple and their parents had died on this spot, a little over a month ago and it was hard to think of anything pleasant, knowing that.

The next house was even worse. From the moment the boys pulled up to the curb, they could see it had been bad. There was little of the first floor of the house standing now. What remained was charred and burnt or had collapsed. Dean found himself staring, looking from the house to the new article in his hands. A family had died here. Mom, Dad and three kids according to the paper.

They'd found them all huddled by the back door, unable to get it unlocked for some reason, the parents trying to shield the children right until the end. Dean swallowed thickly, thinking of being caught in that situation, how horrible it had to have been. The fire that had claimed his mother had scarred Dean deeply enough, but now he was faced with thinking of his own family. What if it had been them?

"Dean!"

Sam's voice startled him from his thoughts, causing Dean to flinch slightly and flash his brother an annoyed look. "What?"

"I asked if we were getting out of the car or just going to sit here. You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just thinking, that's all."

"Well don't strain anything…" Sam shot back light heartedly as he opened his door and climbed out.

" Oh ha ha…. Freaking comedian…" Dean muttered under his breath, opening his own door and stepping out. They walked up to the house, Dean eyeing the burnt out shell carefully for any signs of imminent collapse before he considered letting Sam step inside.

There was a brief flicker on Dean's EMF as he crossed the doorway, looking around the ruins for any sign of what had triggered it. "Dude….check it out."

One wall was still standing, blackened, charred and showing signs of water damage too….except for one perfect square. The wallpaper was completely untouched, perfect even.

Sam examined the wall, swiping his index finger through the charred side of the wall and bringing it away completely filthy as what little wallpaper and plaster that had remained, crumbled away beneath his touch. But as he did the same to the untouched square…nothing. It was perfect intact. "Huh…"

Dean waved the EMF past the spot and watched it light up like the fourth of July. "Whatever the hell this thing is? It's left one hell of a signature behind. That report said the painting was undamaged right? No smoke damage, no water damage?"

"No, nothing. It was perfect still."

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean frowned, looking around them. " This has to be one seriously pissed off spirit to have this kind of power."

"I think it's time we spoke with the painting's new owner, Dean. Before there's another death."

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

"Just follow my lead, dude." Dean instructed Sam as they stood at the front door of the modest home in one of Frederickstown's more blue collar suburbs. A muffled barking could be heard from inside as Dean fidgeted with his tie. He hated wearing these damn monkey suits….but whatever got the job done, he guessed.

The door opened to reveal a man in his early forties with lightly greying hair and an open, friendly face that now seemed drawn and tired. His right hand was locked around the collar of a mixed collie breed that was barking furiously at Sam and Dean. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"I'm Detective Zito, this is Detective Switek. " Dean made a show of flashing his badge without actually letting the man see it. "We're investigating the fire that claimed your brother and his family. Mr….Donahue, right?"

"Yeah, Martin Donahue. But I already spoke to some detectives about what I knew…"

"Oh this won't take a moment, sir. Really. It's more of a follow up than anything, just in case something might have jogged your memory since you last spoke to us." Dean gave his most sincere smile to the man, trying to ignore the dog that was still growling only a couple of feet from him.

Behind Dean, Sam tried to look as cop like as he could, offering the man a tight smile that indicated his regret at disturbing him again.

Martin Donahue seemed to appraise the two "detectives" on his doorstep before he took a step back. "Okay, but I can only spare a few minutes….it's really not a good time right now."

"Oh we understand completely, Mr Donahue." Dean nodded, all business as he stepped through the door, watching the dog as he entered the house.

The collie lunged for Dean again, trying to grab his hand as Dean jumped back, colliding with Sam behind him.

"Ow, hey, watch it, Dean!" Sam yelped as he was driven back into the door behind him, feeling it dig into his back.

"Sorry about that, detectives. Baxter, stop that!" Donahue shook the dog ever so slightly, then began to drag it towards the kitchen. "I'll just lock him outside, excuse me a moment…"

Sam waited until Martin was out of the room before he gave Dean a shove, scowling at him. "Way to step on my foot, doofus."

"It's not my fault, dude, that freaking dog was sizing me up like a Happy Meal." Dean objected, heading towards the living room with Sam in tow.

" You know they say dogs are great judges of character…"

Dean flipped his brother the bird, a sour expression on his face that instantly disappeared as Martin Donahue entered the room again.

"So, how can I help you gentlemen. As I said, you've caught me at a bad time. I've got to organise the funeral arrangements…" Donahue stated, remaining standing near the doorway, obviously hoping to speed things along by appearing in a hurry.

"We just need to make sure nothing was missed in your previous statements…we're following up on the investigation." Sam offered with a polite smile.

"Investigation? But I was told it the fire was accidental…just an electrical fault?"

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes at that. How many times was that trotted out as an excuse for a fire? It was all they would ever tell his father after Mom had died…and Dean knew exactly how much crap that was. Electrical fires didn't pin people to the ceiling….and it didn't trap a whole family inside a burning house. He spied a portrait of a small boy on the wall above the fireplace and approached it, examining it closely before he looked over his shoulder at Donahue. "Is this the painting? From the fire?"

"Yes…that's it. My sister in law bought it because she said it looked like their youngest son, Simon."

Dean appraised the painting again. The little boy looked forlorn, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sadly looked out from the frame. His clothes were rough, almost dirty looking. There were scuff marks of dirt in his little cheeks and his bright blue eyes just seemed to draw you in. It wasn't the sort of painting Dean would have hanging in his house, but he was intrigued to see that the news article hadn't exaggerated. There really was no damage to the painting at all…not even to the frame. "The painting looked like your nephew?"

Donahue nodded and walked to a side table, picking up a framed family photo that he handed to Dean. "That's my brother, Joel and his family. Simon's the little boy standing in front of his father."

Dean looked at the photo, turning it slightly as Sam walked over, so that he could see as well. There was an uncanny resemblance to the boy in the painting, with the boy in the photo. Could that have something to do with it? "They look like they were a happy family…"

"They were." Donahue said a little defensively. "Joel doted on his family. They meant everything to him."

Dean nodded, recalling how the paper reported the father had been found huddled over his family, trying until the very end to protect them. "So what made you keep the painting?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Dean jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the painting. "Is it some sort of family heirloom? What?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business?"

"We're just trying to cover every angle, Mr Donahue, that's all. Is the painting valuable at all?"

"What? No! Theresa picked it up from some deceased lot auction for a few dollars…it's not worth anything. If you're implying that I had anything to do with the fire over a painting…."

Sam was standing behind Donahue, trying to signal Dean to back off. They didn't need to upset the man.

" I wasn't implying anything at all, sir. But you have to understand that these sort of questions have to be asked…" Dean didn't back down an inch.

"I don't have to understand anything, detective. I have to make the funeral arrangements today for my brother and his entire family. Everyone I care about died in that fire. So how dare you stand there and ask me if that damn painting had anything to do with it. If it wasn't for the resemblance to Simon, I would have never touched it. Now I think it's time you left…"

Sam stepped forward then, an apologetic look on his face as he grabbed Dean by the arm and starting leading him to the door. "Thank you for your time, sir. I'm sure we've covered everything now. We won't disturb you again…we're…we're very sorry for your loss."

The moment they were outside, Dean shrugged Sam off with a glare. "What the hell, dude?"

"What did you think you were doing, Dean? The guy's just lost his family and you all but asked if he dropped the match!"

Dean kept walking to the Impala, not even giving the house a backward glance. "He kept that freaky ass painting, Sammy, you trying to tell me there's nothing weird about that? Or the fact it looks like one of the kids that died?"

"It doesn't mean he was involved, Dean. There were no children involved with the other fire. Whatever the story is behind the painting…I don't think it involves Martin Donahue." Sam replied as he opened the passenger door and sat down in the Impala.

Dean followed suit, glancing at the house as he pulled the key from his pocket and slipping them into the ignition. The muscle car started up with a throaty rumble. "Yeah, the guy seems clean. Which is a shame…."

"What? Why?" Sam looked at Dean, completely confused.

"Cause now I feel bad about coming back later to steal that painting…" Dean stated as they pulled away from the curb.

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxxx**

"Are you sure about this?" Sam whispered as he was crouched by the front door, using his thieves picks to unlock it. The boys had been sat outside Martin Donahue's house for the last two hours since the sun had set, hoping he would leave the house. Just as Dean had started to doze off, Sam had finally shaken him and pointed out Donahue's car pulling away.

"You'd rather leave the killer painting with it's next victim?" Dean raised an eyebrow questioningly, giving the street another quick scan to ensure they weren't being watched.

"I just don't know if breaking and entering is the best way to go about this…that's all." Sam replied as he finally felt the lock give way. He slid his hand inside his shirt sleeve and used it to turn the doorhandle, conscious of not leaving behind any fingerprints. "Alright…we're in."

Dean slipped in through the door, keeping an ear out for any noise that might indicate someone else was there. He slipped an EMF meter from his jacket pocket, looking for signs of activity as he approached the painting. The meter remained silent, but there was movement of another sort.

A shadow slowly moved from the corner of the living room, sliding up unseen behind Sam as the brothers stopped in front of the painting. It wasn't until the last moment that the shadow made a sound that had both Dean and Sam freezing in place.

A low, menacing growl filled the air as Dean turned slowly to see that Baxter, the mixed collie, had slipped up on them and was ready to leap at Sam. The dog had it's teeth bared as it snarled, watching both brothers intently.

"Sam, take a step back towards me, dude and stay calm." Dean instructed.

"Oh yeah, really easy for you to say, Dean…what the hell are you doing?" Sam caught sight of Dean slowly easing forward.

"I'm trying to distract it, dude, what the hell does it look like?" Dean hissed, taking another step forward. He puckered his lips and tried making kissy noises to the dog, watching to see if it's tail wagged or anything. "Hey, Baxter….who's a good dog? Come on…you know us…we're not gonna hurt you, buddy."

"Dean…Dean, I don't think it's working…" Sam warned his brother, his heart racing as he heard Baxter's growls intensify.

"Just stay back, Sam…grab that freaking painting so we can get out of here." Dean crouched down until he was face to face with Baxter. He had to remind himself that this was just a mixed collie before him and not a hell hound. It was just a stupid dog and he could damn well talk to a dumb mutt, right? Although right now he was kinda wishing he'd brought some milk bones with him…because after that run in with the possessed dog in Denver, Dean was starting to think anything remotely canine hated him just out of principal. "Come on, Baxter….who's a good boy, huh?"

Before Dean had time to shout a warning, Baxter lunged forward, knocking Dean onto his back and leaping for Sam. Sam had half turned towards the noise when he was dragged down by the weight of a dog latching onto his arm. It took a moment for the pain to hit him as Baxter bit down harder, drawing blood.

"Dean!"

Dean had already rolled to his knees by the time Sam was shouting his name. His gun was instantly drawn and he tried to draw a bead on the dog, ready to put a bullet in it before he hesitated at the last moment. Not only could he not get a clear shot, but was he really going to blow away some poor schmuck's dog for doing it's job and protecting it's home? No way…Dean could be a bastard, but he wasn't about to stoop that low.

"Dean, get it off me!" Sam was rolling on the floor, trying to hit Baxter, trying to pry him loose as the pain became more and more intense. He could feel blood sliding down inside the sleeve of his shirt, before there was a yelp and the pressure was suddenly gone.

Sitting up, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, Sam could see Dean dragging Baxter across the room by his tail. The collie whipped around with a speed and agility that caught Dean by surprise and he let go of Baxter, losing his balance and falling hard on his ass. Instantly, the dog was in his face, Dean having just enough presence of mind to grab Baxter by the collar and hold him at bay as he felt the collie's teeth graze his left cheek. With a growl of frustration and sheer anger at this mutt having hurt his brother, Dean flipped himself backwards, dragging Baxter with him and hurling the dog towards the kitchen. He heard the collie hit the floor and watched it slide a few feet, collecting a kitchen chair along the way with a yelp.

There was no time to worry about whether or not he had hurt the dog. Dean stumbled to his feet and rushed to the kitchen door, pulling it shut. Only seconds later, he heard Baxter slam against it, barking furiously. "Sit, Ubu, sit….bad dog…" He muttered, reaching up to touch his cheek and pulling his fingers away with blood on them. "Son of a bitch…"

Dean headed back to the living room, finding Sam removing the painting from the wall. "Sam…Sammy, you alright?"

"I'll be fine. Can we just get the hell out of here, please? The neighbours could have already called the cops after all that noise."

"Sam, you're bleeding!" Dean was immediately by his brother's side, pulling away the torn remains of his jacket and trying to get a good look at the wound. "Let me see!"

"Later! Dean, we need to get out of here." Sam pulled his arm away and cradled it against him. "I'll be fine, really."

Dean nodded uneasily, not at all happy with how things had played out. This was supposed to have been simple…and now he'd gotten Sam hurt. They slipped out the front door, still looking to see if any of the neighbours lights were on, if anyone was watching them. Thankfully the street was still quiet as Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala, throwing the painting in the back seat and getting the hell out of Dodge.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

By the time Dean pulled into the parking space outside their motel room, his cheek was throbbing and painful, but it was nothing compared to the tightness in Sam's face. It was obvious his brother was in a lot of pain, nursing his injured arm close to his body and trying not to jostle it as they climbed out of the Impala.

Dean made sure he retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk of the car before he followed Sam inside, throwing the painting angrily on a bed as he passed. He wanted to take a freaking shotgun to the damn thing, maybe take out some of the frustration he was feeling about not even being able to protect Sam from a stupid dog.

"What the hell were you thinking, Dean?" Sam demanded as he shouldered open the bathroom door and made his way to the basin. He peeled off his jacket and then began on the shirt, hissing in pain as it stuck in places to the blood that was slowly congealing.

To say the wound was nasty, was an understatement. Sam could see multiple puncture wounds, some of which had gone to the bone. Blood was still weeping from them, dripping into the sink as he held his arm out to get a good look at what damage had been done. The arm had been torn in some areas, deep bloody grooves criss-crossing his forearm.

Dean entered the bathroom with a bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide and clean bandages. "I don't know, dude. It worked for Riggs in Lethal Weapon Three….I figured it was worth a shot. It's not my fault Cujo thought you looked so tasty." He moved in closer and inspected the wound, his stomach knotting up at the sight. "Jesus, Sam…this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Just do it already." Sam growled, bracing himself.

Taking a breath to try and calm himself, Dean poured the peroxide over Sam's arm, watching the wounds bubble and fizz in contact with the liquid. Sam snarled in pain and jerked backwards, smacking his head on the mirrored cabinet that hung above the basin.

Dean grabbed his wrist gently and took another look at the arm. "Some of them are going to need stitches, Sam." His voice was soft and full of regret, hating himself for inflicting pain on Sam.

Sam shook his head. "No stitches, Dean. This'll heal on it's own, dude." For once, he was grateful to have demon blood in his veins. It wouldn't heal as fast as Dean's wound, but it would still heal without stitches and right now, Sam was all for sidestepping any extra pain if he could.

Dean nodded, stepping back. " Look, that peroxide might have washed the crap out of those wounds, but I'd still like to pack them with antiseptic cream before I bandage them, okay? Who knows where that fucking dog's mouth's been? Take a shower and get cleaned up…I'll grab us some beers to drink before we go out and torch that creepy ass painting."

"Long as you're paying…" Sam quipped tiredly. He could see that Dean was blaming himself for what happened. " You bring back anything lite and I swear I'll kick your ass."

Dean gave his brother an affronted look. "Come on, Sam…give me some credit, man."

"Just bring back the beers, jerkwad….and I'd put a sticky plaster over that scratch on your face too. You look you got mugged by Lassie." Sam grinned, pushing Dean out of the bathroom with his good arm.

Dean was shaking his head and chuckling as he left the bathroom, content that Sam wasn't pissed with him. The smile left his face as he saw the painting lying on the bed. He was really looking forward to burning that miserable looking thing….

**An Hour later……**

The back lot of the motel was perfect for the burning of the painting. Dean wasn't taking any chances this time with it. Not only did he slash it to ribbons inside the frame, but he stomped and kicked the frame into kindling as well before a liberal amount of salt and lighter fluid was poured all over the remains.

"Good riddance.." Dean toasted, clinking his bottle of beer with Sam's before he flicked a match and used it to light the rest of the matchbook. He dropped the flaming pack on the painting and watched it burn, hoping that would be the end of that….cause he sure as hell didn't want to track down the grave of some little kid and dig it up.

"So how are we going to know it's over?" Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer. "Do we keep an eye on Donahue for the next couple of days? Check that the house doesn't catch on fire?"

"Couldn't hurt I guess?" Dean agreed. "Maybe Donahue will report the painting stolen or something? I mean…there can't be a fire without the painting, right?"

" I guess not."

"Then we're done, dude. We kick back for a couple of days, make sure that everything's sweet and head home." Dean was already grinning at the prospect. Just the word _home _was enough to make him smile and he could see by the look on Sam's face that his brother was thinking the same. They stayed until the painting was nothing but ash, making sure it was destroyed.

"You wanna order pizza? I'm starving…" Sam said suddenly as they walked back towards the motel.

"Double pepperoni, double cheese." Dean added, his own stomach rumbling at the thought.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

The room was quiet other than the silent murmurings of the TV in the corner. Dean had fallen asleep a couple of hours before, shortly after Sam. Each brother was sprawled out on his respective bed, tangled up in the covers.

Sam was snoring lightly, while Dean was silent, rolled on his stomach, one hand under his pillow with a knife like he had always done before the days of sleeping with Skye.

The combination of beers, pizza and Dean's recent nightmares had driven him into a deeper sleep than normal. He didn't feel the bed dip slightly as the small body climbed into it and slid under the covers with him, shivering slightly from cold. It wasn't until Dean felt a puff of icy breath against his bare chest that he stirred at all, barely awake as he mumbled, "Connor, you okay, little dude?"

"I'm scared…everyone's gone." The tiny, fragile voice whispered.

"S'okay, Connor…I'm right here. Snuggle up if you're cold." Dean mumbled again, his eyes still closed. It took another few heart beats before Dean's eyes flew open and he looked into the tear stained ghostly face of the little boy from the painting. "What the fuck? How? What?"

Before he could move or pull away from the kid, there was a sudden flash of heat and Dean threw himself backwards, his arms flying up to shield his face as the boy erupted into flames in front of him. The covers were tangled around Dean's legs, fire spreading along them with such speed that Dean had no hope of disentangling himself from them. He could feel his sweat pants catching alight and yelped in pain and fear as he tried to beat out the flames.

Sam bolted upright at Dean's shout and looked in sheer horror at the sight of his brother on fire. Flames had engulfed the bed now and were engulfing the bedcovers wrapped around Dean too as he fought to free himself and put out the flames. The smell of burning flesh met Sam's nostrils as he flew out of bed, dragging his blankets with him and tackling Dean.

They rolled across the floor, Sam tearing desperately at the covers tangled around Dean as he heard his brother screaming in pain. The sound cut straight through Sam's heart and he all but snarled as he grabbed the covers and tore them like tissue paper. Dean was freed at last, curling up into as much of a foetal position he could with his burns. He was shaking, shock already taking over.

All around them, the room was on fire now, flames licking at the beds, the curtains, moving up the walls and along the ceiling like something alive and hungry. Sam cringed at the sight of Dean's burnt legs and torso. He didn't want to touch that skin and cause Dean any more damage, looking around frantically for something to wrap around Dean. Lying near the bed was Dean's leather jacket and the instant Sam saw it, he knew Dean would want that saved too. It was Dad's and something like that was irreplaceable. Grabbing the jacket, Sam gently wrapped it around Dean as he picked his brother up and stumbled for the door. The flames seemed to chase them, surrounding the doorframe, blocking their path of escape. Sam could see now why the families had died….why they should have escaped but didn't.

But that wasn't happening to them. Sam wasn't ready to die in some crappy motel room with his brother. Fire had claimed their mother…had claimed Jess. It wasn't taking Dean. Sam wouldn't allow that. He took a step back and focussed on the door, pouring his anger, his rage at it. It exploded outwards, missing the Impala as it arced over the top of the muscle car to hit the parking lot behind.

Sam wasn't far behind it, carrying a barely conscious Dean to the Impala and laying him gently in the backseat, using Dean's leather jacket to cover him and keep him warm. "You'll be okay, Dean…you'll be okay. I've got you."

He slid into the driver's seat, realising the keys were inside the room still. "Fuck!"

Sam climbed out again and rushed to the doorway, one arm held up to try and shield his face from the heat. He closed his eyes for a moment and sought out the keys with his mind, seeing them on the floor near the side table. Without hesitation, he called them to his hand and was rewarded a moment later. The skin on the palm of his hand was seared for a moment by the hot metal of the keys…but Sam ignored it, hearing fire alarms coming closer by the minute. People were starting to come out of their rooms and into the parking lot as Sam got back in the Impala and backed the muscle car away from the room as it was engulfed.

There was no time to worry about what had started the fire, what they had lost inside the room. Sam needed to get Dean somewhere so he could treat his burns. He glanced in the rear view mirror, panic fluttering in his chest as he saw that Dean hadn't moved. His breathing was choked and wheezing, tears forming in Sam's eyes as he realised that Dean's lungs must have been burned as well.

"You're gonna be okay, Dean. I promise. You're gonna be alright. I'm gonna take care of you. It's my turn now. It's my turn now…" The last part was almost a sob as Sam stabbed down on the gas pedal, heading for another motel, any motel.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

It was almost sunrise by the time Sam carried Dean into their newly acquired motel room. There was no amount of prayerful thanks Sam could give that would be enough to thank God for letting Dean's wallet - and therefore his fake credit cards - be inside a side pocket of his leather jacket.

It had allowed Sam to rent another room, buy more medical supplies for Dean. Essentials they needed as he laid Dean down in a tepid bath so he could try and clean him. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes before Sam blinked them away, angry with himself as he gently sponged the dirt, soot and dead skin from Dean's body. Already he could see minute signs of repair and although it seemed hypocritical, he still sent up a prayer of thanks that Dean could heal himself thanks to his father's demonic blood.

The burns were red and raw, the skin peeling away over Dean's chest, right arm and his legs. Sam had bitten his lip, his stomach knotting up as he cut what was left of Dean's sweat pants from his brother. More skin had come away with the material and Sam was grateful that Dean was unconscious now and not feeling this pain. He added the tiniest amount of peroxide to the water, hoping it would help kill any infection and protect Dean.

As he gently swiped the sponge across Dean's face, Sam bit back a bitter laugh at the thought his brother would be glad his face had escaped being burnt. "Can't ruin those looks, huh, Dean? Girls the world over would go into mourning…" Sam said softly as he brushed one large hand affectionately over Dean's hair.

There was still a wet wheezing to Dean's breathing, the shaky, troubled rise and fall of his chest was terrifying for Sam to watch as he tried to tell himself that he could help Dean through the pain….as long as he made it through.

In the back of his mind, there was a voice screaming at him to get Dean to a hospital, that he didn't have the skills to save Dean and was only going to watch him die here. With shaky legs, Sam left the bathroom, leaving the door open so he could see Dean at all times as he went and picked up the phone. Dialling the number that was engraved in his memory, Sam's heart was pounding in his chest as he heard Bobby's voice.

"_Singer's Auto…"_

"B...Bobby, is Dad there?"

"_Sam? What's wrong, son?"_

" I….I need Dad, Bobby. Please…" Sam was finding it all but impossible to keep the tremble from his voice as he spoke now. He closed his eyes and dropped to the bed behind him as he heard the phone exchange hands and the deep, worried tones of John Winchester over the line.

"_Sam? What's happened? Where's Dean? You boys alright?"_

"Dad…" Sam choked for a moment, fighting to get some strength in his voice. This wasn't like him, dammit. He wasn't a kid anymore. But then, Sam had never dealt with anything like this. Not burns on this scale, watching Dean lie there so silent, so still. Barely alive. He had watched Dean die once in his life and the memory of how that had hollowed him out was so raw and painful still. Sam couldn't face that again.

"_Sam, where are you? Answer me, son. What's happened?"_

Sam could hear the fear in his father's voice and it hit home that every call he or Dean had ever made in the past to their father's voicemail would have elicited the same fear. Because John wasn't some cold, driven hunter…he was their father. "Dad…it's Dean. He's… he's hurt. Badly hurt. I don't know what to do...I think I'm gonna lose him."

"_Where are you? I'll be there by nightfall." _

Sam felt tears sliding down his face again as he gave his father the address of the motel before he hung up the phone. Barely making it back to the bathroom before he sank to his knees beside the bath, Sam gently laid a hand on Dean's unburned shoulder. "Hold on, Dean. Dad's coming…."

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

_A/N 2: I couldn't help myself...I'd gone too long without some decent hurt. LOL Feedback is love, people..._


	4. The Taste Of Ashes

_A/N: I actually got this finished sooner than expected...so yay me? LOL If I slow down a little with my chapters, folks, I lay the blame squarely at my belly...and Dean and Skye for allowing life to imitate art. Yup, that's right...the real Connor is going to have a little brother or sister. I've gotta be more careful what I write about...although no big black muscle cars have shown up on my doorstep. _

_Thanks to Tara and Deb as always...Deb especially needs a hug for pushing me with one scene. You helped so much there, mate. Any typos and mistakes are mine._

_And now on with the story..._

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

The TV was simple background noise in the motel room. Sam barely even hearing it anymore as he sat beside Dean. He couldn't even hold his brother's hand, too scared of hurting him, although Sam wasn't even sure that was possible anymore. The nerve endings had to have been burnt away too, some of the burns so deep that Sam had prayed for over an hour that they would heal without scarring. He'd prayed even harder for the next hour that Dean would simply survive.

Dean was too still. Swathed in bandages and blankets now as Sam fought to keep him from suffering hyperthermia. There was a makeshift IV bag hanging haphazardly from the large stuffed moose head that was hanging over the bed. The whole room seemed to have a woodlands setting to it, ducks flying up one wall while another held a painting of a lake.

Sam hadn't moved from beside the bed for the last few hours, holding a silent vigil over his brother, looking for any signs of life at all. Dean's chest was still rising and falling, but it was the shudder through it as it did so, the whistling wheeze as he took each breath, that told Sam how much his brother was fighting. He checked the IV in Dean's left arm, noting the burns weren't so bad. The skin was blistered and peeling, but not as deep as the other burns. Second degree at best, he told himself quietly.

Was that something he should be grateful for? Sam didn't know what to think anymore. He was so tired. Bone tired. Wrapping every burn had taken time, had taken it's toll on Sam, seeing his brother so badly hurt. He was angry with himself for allowing this to happen, for not realising that the painting wouldn't be so easy to destroy. Their luck never held like that. It was like they were cursed or something.

Mom had been torn from Sam's life before he even had a chance to remember her. He'd grown up with photos, stories, anything he could glean from his brother about what Mom had been like. But it didn't fill that hole. It could never take away the pain Sam had known through his childhood, seeing other kids being picked up at school by their mom's. Seeing them at school plays or parent Teacher meetings. Dad and Dean had done their best, but it hadn't made up for the teasing Sam would get about not having a mom.

Then Sam had watched Jess burn, watched her beautiful face turn to blackened flesh before his eyes before Dean had pulled him from the apartment. It had never left him, never would. Sam could close his eyes even now and see Jess's smile. He would hear her laugh sometimes. Or pass someone wearing her perfume and for one moment, he would forget she was gone and search for her in the crowd. Elise was finally helping him past that pain, allowing him to take a chance again, open up, but there would always be the fear of losing her too.

Dad had been next. His funeral pyre had torn a wound in Sam that never healed, because how could he ever heal over the loss of his father, when he had always fought with the man, had never told him the truth of how he felt. Growing up without Mom had been thing, but losing the only parent he had left? Sam hadn't been ready for that.

Now Dean had been touched by fire…and while their father had come back from Hell itself to them, Sam didn't want Dean to do the same. The very thought that his brother was facing Hellfire, not some cushy eternity in Heaven, scared Sam more than he would ever be able to tell anyone.

"Dean…Dean, can you hear me?" Sam asked tentatively, reaching out to run his hand over Dean's hair again gently. He couldn't even hold Dean's hand to let his brother know he wasn't alone. All Sam could do was sit and wait….watch.

His fingers drummed nervously on his leg for a moment as Sam debated whether or not to call Elise. He desperately needed to talk to someone, to hear a familiar voice again. After another moment's hesitation, Sam reached out and picked up the phone beside Dean's bed, dialling Elise's cell number from memory.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey…it's Sam."

"_Sam! Are you okay? What the bloody hell's going on? John blew out of here this morning like a shot out of gun. Skye's been ringing Dean's phone all morning and getting nothing but voicemail."_

"Is she okay?" Sam asked, closing his eyes and silently cursing the fact he forgot their phones had burnt in the fire.

"_Well I think it's safe to say she's majorly freaked out now with John leaving so suddenly. Sam, what the hell's happened? Why isn't Dean answering?"_

"Dean's hurt. There…there was a fire, Elise. Dean's been burned."

"_Jesus, Sam…is he…will he pull through?"_

"He'll be fine." Sam answered, hearing the lack of conviction in his voice as he spoke. "We lost the phones, our duffel bags…everything. I'm taking care of him…but…" He got to his feet and walked across the room as far as the phone's cord would allow, glancing back towards Dean before he spoke again, his voice softer now. "I'm scared, Elise. I've never seen Dean like this. What… what if I lose him? We haven't broken the deal yet. I can't let him go to Hell, Elise."

"_Hey…that's not going to happen, Sam. Dean's a fighter. Like you. If he has you watching over him, he'll pull through, okay? Just hang in there and call me if you need to talk. I just wish I was there with you."_

"Yeah…me too." Sam agreed quietly. He looked over towards Dean again, his eyes catching the TV in the corner of the room. The news was playing, talking about the fire and Sam's widened as he saw what the report was saying. "Elise? I have to go. I'll call you later, okay?"

Sam hung up the phone, walking back to the side table and putting it down as he picked up the remote for the TV instead, turning up the volume.

"_**Police are investigating the mysterious fire that struck the Motel Nine in the early hours of the morning. Three people died in the fire that swept through the single floor motel rooms. Police are yet to formally identify the victims but it's believed that they were an elderly couple and a man in his late forties. No cause yet has been found for the fatal blaze, but this painting was found untouched in the ruins….."  
**_

Sam felt his blood run cold as the familiar sad face of the little boy stared back at him from the TV. How the hell had that painting ended up back in their room? Intact and unharmed? Sam wanted to take the painting again. He wanted to tear it apart with his bare hands as he looked down at Dean and watched his brother fighting for his life. They had saved Martin Donahue but at what cost? Sam knew that Dean would take the deaths of those other people hard… losing anyone was hard in this job.

"_**In a strange twist that Police have been unable to explain, a second fire last night, claimed the lives of a family of five in the neighbouring town of Hartsford. Police Investigators have yet to comment on the finding of a second painting in the remains of the Hartsford fire or if there is any possible link between these two fatal blazes. The painting is currently being held inside the Hartsford Police Station, awaiting further forensic investigation by the arson squad…."**_

A second painting? Sam couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the report and saw another painting, not of the little boy this time, but a small girl with brown hair and large brown eyes. Her face was tear-stained and her clothes while trying to look neat, still had a worn, almost grubby appearance about them. Another family had died and Sam was no closer to understanding what the hell was happening here. God, what he wouldn't give for the internet right now. Sam never realised how much easier it made research until now. He couldn't leave Dean to go to the library and even if he did, what would he be looking for?

Picking up the phone, Sam tried to remember Sarah's number but it wasn't ingrained in his memory and with his cell gone, what was he going to do? Suddenly Sam rolled his eyes in disgust with himself, realising something. "Dean? I'll be right back, okay?"

Sam went out to the Impala, digging through the glove box until with a triumphant grin, he found the card Sarah had written down Martin Donahue's address on. Flipping it over, he saw the name and address of Sarah's auction house…and her cell phone number.

Heading back into the room again, Sam checked Dean over again, trying to see if he was healing. If he was in pain at all. But there was nothing except the laboured rise and fall of Dean's chest…which was something at least.

Picking up the phone again, Sam dialled the number, his fingers drumming impatiently as he waited for an answer. The phone went through to Sarah's voicemail after a moment and with a small sigh, Sam spoke. "Hey, Sarah…it's Sam. Look, Dean and I could really use some of your art knowledge right now. Can you find out the name of the artist for me of those paintings? Thanks…get back to me soon, okay?"

He hung the phone and dropped his head into his hands, feeling lost. The room was too quiet. Sam wanted to hear Dean's voice, his awful singing…anything right now. He wanted his brother to wake up and be alright.

"Dude, you're never this quiet…do something will you? I'm going to lose my mind here." Sam reached out and placed his hand on Dean's good arm, mindful of the IV. There was a flicker of movement through the limb suddenly and Sam leaned closer, hope igniting within. "Dean?"

There it was. A flicker of Dean's eyelashes too. Barely anything but enough to catch Sam's attention and make him give out a relieved soft laugh, his voice breaking slightly. "I saw it, dude. It's okay…I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

"Sam?"

The voice made Sam's head jerk up off his chest for a moment, before it sank back down again, his eyes not even opening.

"Sam!"

This time Sam jolted awake with a start, his arms and legs snapping out as he momentarily lost his balance on the hard kitchen chair he had been asleep in, feeling a pair of strong arms grab him and stop him from falling. Wait…asleep? When the hell had that happened? Sam blinked furiously for a moment before he rubbed a hand across his eyes like he had always done as a child, trying to clear his bleary vision. "I'm up…I'm up."

"Easy, son. I didn't mean to startle you. You okay?" John Winchester was crouched in front of Sam, his eyes scouring his son for injuries before he gently pulled Sam's arm closer for inspection. "What happened here?"

"I came off second best with a collie…" Sam explained tiredly, sitting up a little more as it finally sank in that his father was in front of him. "Dad? Oh shit…how long was I out?"

"I don't know, Sam. I came in and you were asleep in the chair beside Dean. You must have needed it."

"I'm f-…" Sam stopped the instant he saw his father raise an eyebrow at him. Instead, he changed tack, turning in his seat and ignoring the way his back was aching. "How's Dean? Is…is he any better? Is he going to be okay?"

John looked over at his eldest son, reaching out and gently checking his neck for a pulse. It was good and strong, pounding a steady rhythm under his fingers. "He's still with us. How was his breathing before?"

Sam listened carefully, noting the whistling seemed to have gone now. His breathing looking a little easier. "It was laboured…he sounds stronger." The relief was evident in his voice.

John watched Sam carefully, seeing how exhausted his son was. His eyes were slightly sunken, dark circles beneath them. "Come on." He took Sam by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "I want you to take a shower and then get some more sleep."

"Dad, no. I'm okay. I need to be awake for Dean. I need to look after him."

"And just how do you plan on doing that when you're ready to pass out, Sam? You take after your brother more and more, you know that?" John shook his head in exasperation.

"Yeah, well, where do you think we learnt it from?" Sam smiled.

John chuckled softly, knowing that Sam was right. "Just humour me? Get some rest. I'll watch Dean and let you know if anything changes. That's an order, Sam."

Sam considered arguing the point, instantly bristling against the idea of being ordered. He had never taken to orders the way Dean had. He had never played the good soldier. Looking down at the dirty t-shirt and shorts he was wearing, Sam pulled at the shirt as he spoke." I can't have a shower. I don't have anything to change into. We lost our duffels in the fire."

A second later, his hunting reflexes saved Sam from catching a small backpack with his teeth, throwing his hands up in time to catch it and seeing his father laughing.

"Nice catch. I figured you and Dean might need a change of clothes." John explained before he took the chair Sam had been sitting on and turned it around. He sat down, leaning his arms across the backrest as he watched Dean, his wings folding up quietly behind him. It had been a long hard flight and John was tired himself, but he knew Sam needed it more. "Hit the showers, Sam."

"Yeah, yeah…" Sam muttered with a small smile, grateful for the company of his father. He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it tiredly before he stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower. He would throw away the t-shirt and shorts later. They stank of smoke and had blood on them from Dean. Sam never wanted to see them again after tonight. The shower was steaming hot and it helped to soothe his tired muscles. Pulling away the wet bandage from his arm, Sam could see the bite wounds were closing up and healing. By morning they would be gone.

Sitting beside Dean, John checked the IV Sam had set up for him and was satisfied that everything was being done for Dean. He risked a quick look at the bandages on Dean's legs and noted grimly that the burns appeared to be healing. There'd been a time when John was sure he had cursed his son by giving him demon blood, forever changing Dean from being human, but now? Now as he watched his son fighting to heal from injuries that should have killed him outright, John knew that he had done what was needed.

The bathroom door opened again and Sam wandered out in his clean sweat pants and a light grey t-shirt. He flopped down on the bed beside Dean's, lying on his back for a moment before he rolled over towards Dean and watched his brother and father. It brought back memories of when he was younger, trying to sleep while Dad watched over Dean if he was hurt on a hunt. Sometimes Dad was nursing injuries of his own, but his own health concerns took a backseat to making sure his son was alright and making sure both boys were resting.

Sleep was tugging at his eyelids more and more, Sam giving into the feeling of security he had, knowing that Dad was there now to keep them safe. Nothing would get past their father. Darkness enveloped Sam as he slipped into a deep sleep, completely relaxing at last.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

_Sam turned in a circle slowly, puzzled by the sight of trees surrounding him. When had he ended up in the middle of some forest? Was he on a hunt? Looking down at his clothes, Sam was even more confused. A t-shirt and sweat pants? Not exactly the sort of clothes you wore hunting. The air had a chilly bite to it as Sam took a few steps, his hearing trying to detect any noise that would explain why he was here? _

"_Somebody! Somebody help me!!"_

_Sam went stock still, his blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard the desperate cry split the air. The voice was all too familiar. _

"_Sam! Dad! Anyone….please!" _

_Sam opened his mouth to call out to Dean before he decided against it, already breaking into a run in the direction the cry had come from. Branches whipped Sam across his bare arms and slapped him in his face as he tried to brush them aside at a run. One caught him hard across the mouth and for a moment, Sam could taste blood. But he didn't break stride, if anything he picked up speed. In the distance, another sound was reaching Sam on the night air. _

_The angry snarls of what sounded like a pack of dogs._

_Sam came to a small clearing ahead of him, seeing the pack for the first time. Four large, slavering Hellhounds were snarling and leaping at a tree on the other side of the clearing. Clinging desperately to the tree's higher branches, was Dean. Sam could see blood running down one arm and there were deep tears in Dean's left leg. How the hell he had managed to climb the tree at all, Sam couldn't even begin to comprehend. _

"_Dean!" Sam called to his brother, his heart pounding as he watched one of the Hellhounds leap up at Dean. It's jaws barely missed one of his legs as Dean tried to scramble up higher. _

_Sam could see the sheer terror in his brother's face as he clung to the tree. Dean was breathing hard; dirty, bloodied and it wasn't hard to see his strength was starting to wane due to his injuries._

_Sam felt sick to the stomach, seeing the injuries and knowing that they had been inflicted by the pack now milling around the bottom of the tree, waiting for their prey to weaken and fall. How long had his brother ran before he had been dragged down? How hard had he fought to free himself, only to be trapped in a tree while the Hellhounds waited for him below?_

_One of the pack turned towards Sam as he called towards his brother, curling it's lip and taking a step towards the younger Winchester with a snarl._

"_Sam! Sammy…run!" Dean yelled. He tried to slip down to a lower branch, suddenly yelling and slamming an open palm against the tree trunk beside him. "Hey! Hey, you fugly bastards…I'm right here. Fresh meat! Come and get me!" Dean didn't know how Sam had found him, but there was no way he was going to let the pack turn on Sam. They were here for him. If anyone was dying…it wasn't going to be Sam._

_Instead of running, Sam calmly walked out into the clearing, watching the pack cautiously._

"_Sam, no! I told you to run!"_

"_Not gonna happen, Dean." Sam stated calmly, noting taking his eyes off the pack. He knew what was happening now. Why he was here. This was a dream. He was in Dean's dream and now, at last, Sam knew what was waking his brother in a cold sweat night after night. _

_Dean didn't need this right now. He was trying to heal from the fire, his body already taxed to it's limits without these nightmares wearing him down. Too injured to be able to escape by waking up. Dean was trapped here and Sam wasn't going to desert his brother._

"_Sammy, please….just run. They're here for me." _

"_Tough. They can't have you." Sam stated coldly as he continued forward. The lead dog was stalking towards him now, black smoky saliva dripping from it's jaws as a hellish snarl left it's mouth. The eyes burned like liquid flame and all over it's body, Sam could see faces of people in torment. Was this really what a Hellhound looked like? Was Dean actually able to see them? Or was this just his brother's imagination creating what he thought they would look like?_

_Bracing himself as he watched the lead Hellhound break into a run towards him, he could hear Dean screaming in terror, calling his name again and again._

_Sam tipped his head back slightly, fixing the Hellhound with a cold, hateful look before he unleashed his mind on the creature. It screamed in agony a second later, all but turning inside out before it collapsed at Sam's feet in a pile of steaming skin and bone. _

_A second hound rushed towards Sam and was flung into the trees, yelping as it was impaled between two branches. _

_The other two hounds moved together, splitting up just before Sam to try and outflank him. Sam was well aware of each hound, regarding them calmly, letting his rage at the hurt they had caused Dean, guide him. He knew exactly when each hound was about to leap, side stepping one creature as it leapt and turning to grab the other from the air. With a snarl of his own, Sam brought the animal down across one knee, snapping it's back instantly. He flung it aside a moment later as the last Hellhound leapt at him again. _

"_Sam, look out!" Dean screamed, already trying to climb down the tree he was in, slipping and losing his grip, falling several feet and glancing off a branch before he hit the ground. He lay on the ground winded, struggling to draw breath and roll to his side as Sam was attacked._

_The Hound leapt at Sam, intent on tearing this human limb from limb. It crashed into Sam, knocking him on his back. Sam reached up and grabbed hold of the creature's muzzle, twisting in different directions as he tore it's lower jaw clean off. The creature stumbled back, shaking it's head furiously in pain before it was lifted off the ground by unseen forces and flung into a tree so hard, that it exploded in a spray of blood, steam and fire. _

_The forest was silent now as Sam climbed wearily to his feet and rushed over to Dean's side. _

"_Sam…you…shouldn't have. You…could have…been killed…" Dean ground out, shaking as shock started to sink it. _

_Sam knelt over his brother and closed his eyes, gently passing a hand over his brother's wounds. "Just lie still, Dean. You'll be okay." _

_Dean felt the wounds closing up, his strength returning. It was easier to breath and once Sam was done, he sat up, finding himself perfectly unharmed. "What? What did you do? How? Sam?" He looked up at his brother fearfully._

"_Relax, dude….this is a dream, that's all. You're okay. There's no Hellhounds, there never was."_

"_A dream?" Dean looked around, confused._

"_Yeah, Dean." Sam smiled warmly. "You're safe. Dad's with us. You're going to be okay. Get some rest, okay? Dad's got your back out there…and I'm watching out for you in here. Nothing's getting past us, okay?"_

_Dean nodded slowly as everything started to fade out again, the dream sliding away at last. He was safe….it was okay to rest…_

John noticed Dean's eyes flicker for a moment, before he seemed to relax again, his breathing evening out. Looking over at Sam, John saw the same thing happening with his youngest son and a small smile danced across his lips. The bond his boys shared was clearly evident in that moment and John stretched his wings and stood up, needing to let the blood flow back into his legs.

It was time to make another IV for Dean and John knew while he was busy doing that, Sam would be watching Dean.

"God help anyone that tries to take your brother from you, Sam…" John whispered quietly to himself as he went into the kitchenette to make the fresh IV.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Singer's Auto Yard, South Dakota….**

Skye shoved another pair of jeans into the bag, not caring about being neat or orderly, but simply packing as fast as she could. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, her stomach rolling so much since that morning that Skye was amazed she hadn't spent the day hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up everything she had eaten last night.

Connor sat on the bed, cuddling his favourite brown teddy bear to his chest, watching his mother pack without a word. He knew something bad must have happened for his Poppy to have left so suddenly and now his Mommy was all grumpy. He didn't understand why, but he understood that it was best to be quiet and be a good boy right now. A small backpack full of his clothes was already sitting beside him.

"Just what the hell are you doing?" The voice was soft, but the tone was authoritative.

"I can't just sit here, Bobby." Skye didn't bother looking up, shoving a blue t-shirt into the bag.

"So what, you're just going to drive half away across the country with Connor? Skye, you can barely fit behind a steering wheel."

"I'm going Bobby. That's final."

Bobby entered the room then and walked over, putting his on the bag Skye was packing in an effort to make her stop. "Skye, will you just stop and think about this? You can't go blazing off across the country the way you are."

" I'm pregnant, Bobby, not an invalid."

" I never damn well said you were." Bobby snapped. "But that don't mean I'm letting you out the damn door, either." He was furious now, determined to make Skye see sense. He knew she had been freaked ever since John left, especially since John had been his usual damn self and not said a word after the phone call from Sam. Bobby knew what had happened and he had tried to keep quiet for the most part, simply because he knew that Skye would react badly to knowing that Dean was hurt.

"Something's happened, Bobby and no one's saying anything!" Skye snapped back in reply, meeting his angry gaze with her own. "Dean's not answering his phone and I can't get a straight answer out of anyone! If…..if he's…."

The fight bled out of her quickly and Skye sank down on the bed beside her bag. Tears were brimming her eyes now, one spilling down her cheeks. She couldn't bring herself to actually voice her worst fear….that Dean had been killed. They wouldn't keep that from her…would they?

Bobby walked around the bed to where Connor was sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest, clutching his bear tightly. Crouching down, Bobby smiled at the little boy. "Hey sport, you know I just remembered?"

Connor shook his head, his face solemn.

"I've got a box of Oreo cookies downstairs on the kitchen table. How about you go and have some, huh? I bought them especially for you…." Bobby said a smile, keeping his voice light and gentle. " Go on….it's okay."

Connor looked over towards his Mommy, wanting her approval first.

" It's okay, baby. You go and help yourself." Skye managed a shaky smile as she nodded. "Save me some, okay?"

Connor leapt off the bed and rushed out of the room with an excited whoop, all smiles now at the thought of the cookie feast he had just been given downstairs.

Bobby stood up again, then walked back around the bed and took a seat beside Skye. He pushed his cap a little further back on his head before he spoke. "There was a fire."

The sharp inhalation of breath was what Bobby was expecting from Skye and he knew there was nothing more to do than just push on and let her know everything he knew before she started to panic again. "Dean's been hurt, pretty badly from what I hear. But that boy's tough…you know that as well as I do, Skye. He's got that demonic blood in him from his father and I never damn well thought I was be saying this, but I'm glad he has. It's keeping him alive and with Sam watching over him? He'll be just fine."

"But why didn't anyone tell me, Bobby? Why didn't Sam answer Dean's phone? I didn't know what the hell was happening?" Skye asked, her voice quivering with tears.

"They didn't want you to panic, Skye." Bobby shrugged. He saw the argument forming on her lips and put up a hand to silence her. " I ain't saying it was a good move, but know that you know…do you feel any better for it?"

"No." Skye admitted, shaking her head as tears slid down her cheeks. " I should be there with him."

"Doing what?" Bobby asked softly. "You go up there and you put yourself right in line of fire. Whatever their hunting is damn dangerous, girl and Dean's right to keep you as far away from it as he can. You and the baby? Connor? Are what that boy holds onto these days. Every damn day that deal ticks closer, I see it in his eyes. He's scared, but you're keeping him grounded, Skye. He needs to know your safe. And as soon as he can? I know you'll hear from him. But you gotta stay calm. You can't go stressing out that baby. It's not good for you or for it. So just try and stay calm, okay? Let me and Elise look out for you."

Skye nodded, knowing that Bobby was making sense, even if she felt utterly helpless right now.

Bobby slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head. " Go0d girl. Now how about we go see if there's any of those cookies left to have with my coffee?"

Skye sat quietly for a moment as Bobby stood up. "I'll be there in a minute. I just need to wash my face and freshen up."

Bobby hesitated in the doorway for a moment, before he shrugged. " Sure…take your time."

The Chevelle was parked around the side of the house as Skye threw her bag into the trunk along with Connor's. She closed the lid and turned to head back into the house, seeing Bobby standing nearby, sipping a mug of coffee.

"You take the keys from my jacket, or were you planning on hotwiring her?"

Skye lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushing pink. " I took your keys. How the hell did you know?"

"Do I look like I came down in the last shower? If it was Elizabeth that had been hurt, wild horses wouldn't have kept me from going to her." Bobby drawled after another mouthful of coffee.

"Then you know why I have to do this…"

"No, I understand why you feel you need to do this. I'm still not about to let you do it."

"Dammit, Bobby! I can't sit on my ass while Dean's hurt!"

"So what are you going to do? Drive all the way up there, put yourself and Connor in danger so you can sit there and hold his hand? Mighty noble of you, Skye. But he doesn't need you there. He needs you safe. He needs to know he can finish this hunt and come home to you. That's all."

"That's not all!" Skye yelled, her fists clenching. "He needs….he needs…"

"Needs what? To worry about you? To second guess every move because he has to factor in you and Connor?" Bobby pressed, seeing that he was making Skye think now. " Dammit, Skye, will you just think about this for one minute? You think you're the only one hurting here? You think Elise wouldn't give anything to be there with Sam right now? Or that I don't want to be up there? Those boys are kin to me in all but blood and it's tearing at me to know one of them is hurt right now. But I have a job to do and that's keeping you and that boy of yours safe. So that's what I'm doing. And there's no way in hell I'm letting you go anywhere. So stop being so damn pigheaded and get inside this house before your tea gets cold."

Skye stood there for a moment, stunned by Bobby's outburst. She took a step forward, raising an eyebrow. " You done?"

"Depends." Bobby snorted. "Are you?"

Skye looked towards the car, rubbing a hand over her swollen belly and silently cursing the fact he was right. Again.

With a sigh, she headed for the house. "When did you get so bad tempered?"

"I reckon 'bout the time you decided to get so pigheaded." Bobby grinned, walking with her. "You must be rubbing off on me." He chuckled at the glare he received from Skye, inwardly thanking the heavens for finally making her see sense. There were times Bobby was sure Skye was a stubborn as Dean. It was definitely never going to be a boring relationship….

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

**Frederickstown, Upstate New York.**

John rubbed a weary hand over his face and glanced at his watch before he got up from his chair and went to refill his coffee cup. It had been one hell of a long night, thin orange fingers starting to climb across the sky as dawn grew closer by the minute. John was beyond exhausted, his eyes feeling like sand paper, his stomach like an acid pool from the amount of coffee he had consumed throughout the night. But in the soft light of the bedside lamp, John could see that Dean's skin was looking better. There was more colour to his face. The burns that John had risked a look at a little while before, were healing well. Dean would be in pain for a few days, but John knew for certain now that his boy was going to recover.

Pouring what was left of the coffee pot into his cup, John heard a soft sound behind him. He turned to see Dean's eyes flickering for a moment before they slowly opened.

His tongue slid slowly across his dry lips as Dean looked around the room, trying to take in his surroundings. Where the hell was he? All he could recall was that freaky kid lying beside him on the bed and then he was on fire. What the hell? How had that happened? The kid should have been ashes along with the painting…and instead, it was Dean that was feeling as though he'd been deep fried. Wait…where was Sam? The fire had taken hold so quickly…had Sam been hurt? Was he okay? Where the hell was his brother?

Dean tried to sit up, a harsh, strangled gasp of pain escaping him before he slumped back against the pillows again.

That sound was all it took for Sam's eyes to fly open on the neighbouring bed. He was upright in an instant, stumbling to his feet and rushing over to his brother's side. "Hey…hey, easy, Dean. Take it easy…"

" 'Am?" Dean croaked, his throat dry and aching, feeling red raw still. His eyes washed over Sam in seconds, looking for injuries and burns. The fire was sketchy in his mind still. How had he gotten out? Had Sam saved him? Wasn't that ironic? Dean licked his lips again, trying to form a sentence when he noticed movement on the other side of the bed and turned slightly to see his father taking a seat beside him.

"How you doing, dude?" John asked quietly. "Think you can handle having a drink?"

Dean nodded slowly, desperate for something cool and wet on his lips. Sam helped him to lift his head enough to sip from a straw that John had slipped into a bottle of Gatorade. It was pure heaven at that moment, taking a few small sips before the bottle was withdrawn again. Dean couldn't stop the whimper that left him as the drink was taken away. He wanted to bathe in the stuff right now.

"Small amounts, Dean, you know that." John admonished gently.

"Thirsty.." Dean whispered, looking longingly at the bottle again. His eyes lit up as the straw was brought back to his lips for a few small sips again, quenching the burning in his throat. This time when the straw was removed he sank back down into the pillow, closing his eyes again for a moment. They flashed open again as Dean looked at his father, grasping the fact he was conscious and his father was beside him. "Dad? How?…When?"

John smiled at Dean. "Sam called me. You gave us a hell of a scare, son."

"'S…orry…" Dean managed, wincing a little at the pain he was feeling. It must have been bad for Dad to have left Bobby's. Looking at his father, he could see now just how exhausted he looked. How long had he been sat there? Just how long had Dean been out of it?

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry for, Dean." Sam assured him, seeing that his hands no longer looked as badly burned. Fresh pink skin was growing, the old dead skin slowly flaking off. Sam rested his hand on Dean's bare shoulder where he was unburnt. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Not really." Dean admitted, shaking his head, then groaning at it felt like the Fourth Of July had suddenly started in his head. All over his body, he was itching in places where the skin was healing and flaking, but in others the skin felt hot and tight. Dean was careful not to twist the wrong way or move too much. He didn't need his skin to crack and bleed, he was already uncomfortable enough.

Sam gave Dean's shoulder a quick pat before he was up and disappearing into the bathroom. He was back a moment later with a couple of small white tablets in his hand. "Dean, here. I brought you some pain killers."

Dean grunted softly as he was helped to sit up enough to take the tablets, washing them down with another sip of Gatorade. He gulped another mouthful down greedily before the straw was pulled away, Dean scowling slightly at his father.

"I can see you're on the path to recovery." John smirked, sitting the Gatorade down on the small bedside table. He scrubbed his hand over his face and through the bristle of stubble that covered his chin.

"Dad, I've got this. Go get some sleep, yourself." Sam suggested, feeling more refreshed than he had in the last few days. Even the connection he had shared with Dean, hadn't been able to sap his energy.

" You sure, dude?" John quirked an eyebrow. It wasn't that he thought Sam wasn't up to the task, it was more John's need to watch his boys. He was their father, their protector. It didn't matter that they were grown men and seasoned hunters, John would always worry about them and want to watch over them.

"I can handle the English Patient here." Sam smirked, watching Dean frown in indignation.

John got up, clapping Sam gently on the shoulder as he passed him. He dropped down on the bed Sam had been sleeping on, kicking off his boots before he sprawled out on his stomach. His eyes slid shut not long after and John's breathing evened out as his wings relaxed and unfurled to almost touch the floor on either side.

Both boys watched him for a moment before their conversation started up again, albeit a little softer, now that their father was sleeping only a few feet away.

"Dude, you did not just call me that boring ass movie?" Dean demanded, his voice raspy, yet still full of disgust that he could mentioned in the same sentence as what he considered a total chick flick. Only chicks would sit through something that boring. He'd caught ten minutes of it one night on late night TV and it had been enough to put him to sleep.

"A few more bandages and I'd be calling you Darkman….or maybe the Mummy Returns?" Sam teased quietly.

"Hey those movies are cool." Dean rasped again, allowing a smile. The pain killers were starting to kick in, gently smoothing away the pain and allowing Dean to enjoy lying on the bed, instead of feeling like he was lying on broken glass everywhere his body actually touched the mattress. He sank in a little deeper with a quiet sigh, his eyes slowly drifting to half mast before he realised he was tired again. Forcing them open, Dean looked at Sam. "Wh…what did you…give me?"

"Just some Tramadol. It'll help with the pain, Dean. It's okay. I'm gonna be right here." Sam assured his brother. "You're not alone…"

Dean nodded gently, feeling the drugs pulling him under again, the blanket of sleep slipping over him. His eyes slid shut….then with a brief fight, opened again as Dean looked at Sam again. "Saaaammy?" The word slurred now as Dean tried to keep the fuzz from his mind.

" Right here, Dean."

"Thanks…before…jus'…thanks…" Dean managed before his eyes closed again and he lapsed into a completely relaxed sleep again.

Sam felt his throat close up a little. He knew what Dean was talking about and even though Dean was asleep, he spoke quietly. "I've got your back, Dean. I promise."

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

An hour passed of Sam watching the TV quietly, trying not to let his father's snoring annoy him, even if it occasionally overrode Dr. Phil's advice on how to be a better partner…or whatever it was he was actually talking about. Sam was only half heartedly watching, knowing that if Dean woke up? The teasing would be merciless….and welcomed, because Sam hated seeing Dean so quiet, even though he knew his brother was recovering.

It was amusing in a way, seeing how the TV stations had scrambled in the last few months to get back on the air. As if it was an essential part of society to give them back their game shows, talk shows and soap operas. A sign of life returning to normal….although Sam knew better. It was no better than smearing Vaseline over the lens to hide any blemishes. The world wasn't the same anymore and was never going to be….but no one wanted to admit that.

Sam turned away from the TV and looked up at Dean's IV bag, noting that it was almost empty. Should he make another? Dean was able to drink now when he was awake and Sam could see that his skin was regaining more and more colour with each passing hour. He carefully and gently removed the IV from Dean's hand and unhooked the bag from the moose head above them. Sam carried it to the small kitchenette and dumped it in the sink, reaching into the fridge for a Gatorade for himself. The six pack he had bought on the way to the motel would be enough for now. Sam would keep an eye on Dean for the next few days and make sure his brother didn't do anything that would inhibit his healing.

As much as Dean was likely to allow anyway. He would hover and fuss over Sam, but would never allow Sam to do it for him return. Always putting on that tough guy act.

Slamming back half the bottle of Gatorade, Sam let out a small sigh afterwards, feeling like a sponge that had finally found water to absorb, his body no longer so dry and hot.

Sam needed to do something, talk to someone. It was too quiet, even with his father's snoring.

Picking up the phone from beside Dean's bed, Sam slipped into the bathroom with it, careful to make sure the cord slid under the door okay so that he could close the door. He didn't want to disturb Dean or Dad. The edge of the bath wasn't exactly the most comfortable looking place to sit, so Sam put the lid down on the toilet and sat down on there, perching the phone on one knee as he dialled the number.

"_Singer's Auto Yard…"_

"Hey, Bobby, it's Sam."

"_Is everything alright, Sam? Your Dad get to you okay?" _

"Yeah, Dad's just fine, he's getting some sleep right now."

"_What about your brother? Dean going to be okay?"_

Sam was about answer when he heard a strange sound over the receiver…as if there was a struggle happening. "Bobby?" Down the line, the sound was muffled for a moment, Sam picking up swearing and raised voices before he heard a familiar voice again.

"_Sam? Where's Dean? How is he? Is he okay? Sam!"_

"Skye…hey, calm down." Sam's voice was light, amusement twitching his lips as he heard Bobby in the background muttering about Skye losing her mind and elbowing an old man in the ribs just for a phone.

"_Don't tell me to calm down, Sam. I haven't heard anything…just tell me…is he okay?"_

"Dean's going to be fine, Skye. I promise. He's asleep right now but I'll make sure he calls you when he's able to, okay? Just calm down for me. If Dean heard you right now he'd freak. You're not going to do the baby any good getting all worked up." Sam spoke calmly, trying to get through to her. He heard Skye make a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob, her voice shaking with emotion as she spoke again.

"_Dean's really going to be okay?"_

"I promise." Sam reiterated, kicking himself for not calling her sooner. What the hell had it been like for Skye, knowing Dean was hurt? Sam put himself in her shoes, thinking about how he would feel if it had been Elise and his stomach knotted up at the mere thought of it.

"_Thanks, Sam." Skye said quietly, relief flooding her voice. After a moment, she brightened again. " Hey, I know someone here that's been dying to speak to you…"_

Sam waited for a moment, expecting to hear Connor's small voice over the line, but instead as the phone was handed over, he heard Elise and his lips broke open into a huge grin. It was as if the world had just become warmer and full of light, just hearing her voice.

"_Hey handsome…you looking after yourself, or am I going to be kicking your arse?" _

Sam laughed, leaning back a little, his whole body relaxing. "That's one hell of a bedside manner there…"

"_Hey, do I look like Florence Nightingale, mate? I don't bloody think so. You only get tough love from this nurse…" Her voice lowered then, for Sam's ears only. " And maybe some of those massages you like so much…"_

Sam groaned, his mind flooding with memories of Elise's hands on his back, his shoulders. He would have given anything to feel that right now. "That's not fair…"

"_Fair?" Elise laughed, "Who ever said anything about fair? Now talk to me…I'm bloody well missing you far too much…"_

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

Dean slowly clawed his way towards the sounds of life, leaving the darkness and it's wonderful pain free existence behind. He hadn't even dreamt at all…why was that? Oh yeah, Sam had slipped him those pills. Normally Dean would kick his brother's ass for pulling a stunt like that, but the sleep had been needed and if that came without nightmares for once? Then Dean was going to take that as a bonus. He let his eyes flicker open, noting the amount of sunlight in the room now. It had been night before…just how long had he slept?

Turning towards the sound of his father's gentle snoring, he saw him asleep on the bed beside him. Okay…so that wasn't a dream. Dad really was here. Dean smiled slightly, finding that reassuring in a way that it always had been since he was a kid. Maybe even more so now because he knew his father was alive.

"Sammy?" Dean tried to sit up a little, shuffling back in the bed until he was higher on his pillow and able to get his elbows under him for support. Sam was no where to be seen. What the hell? The room wasn't that big, how did someone that tall disappear? Annoyance flashed through him. Where the hell would Sam go? Alone for fucks sake. He should know better.

Dean twisted with a small grunt of pain, trying to see if his brother was in the bathroom, but the door was open…so that was a no.

"Sammy?" Dean raised his voice more, causing his father to instantly sit up, his wings snapping out fully with the sudden shock, almost hitting Dean. "Hey, Birdman of Alcatraz…you mind?"

John pulled his wings in, scowling at Dean as he stood up and stretched. "Watch your mouth…"

"Watch those freaking wings of yours.." Dean threw back, glaring.

"What's wrong? Why'd you wake me?" John demanded, looking around the room. "Where's your brother?"

"That's what I want to know. I woke up and he was gone." Dean explained, trying to sit up more. "Sam, you'd better fucking answer me!"

As if on command, the motel room door opened and Sam entered with a tray of drinks in his arms and a brown paper bag tucked under his chin. He nudged the door shut with his hip, quickly shuffled over to the small table in the room and put down the food and drink. Sam turned to see both his father and Dean glaring at him. "What?"

"Where the hell did you go?" Dean demanded. His voice was still carrying a slight huskiness to it and felt scratchy, but nothing Dean couldn't cope with.

"Breakfast?" Sam answered simply, one eyebrow lifting as if he couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. "I brought back coffee, donuts, some burgers and even some soup for you, Dean."

"Soup? You're fucking kidding me?" Dean tried to fold his arms across his chest, hissing in pain as it pulled the skin on his back. He stopped instantly, huffing out a frustrated breath of air. "I want some real food, Sam."

"You'll take the soup, Dean. Once we know you can keep that down and swallow okay? You can go back on solids." John ordered, his whole demeanour indicating the matter was not open for negotiation.

"Aw come on…" Dean groaned, before he sighed and rolled his eyes. "What sort of soup is it?"

"Chicken noodle." Sam told him. "Homemade too, the waitress reckons they sell a lot of it this time of the year."

Dean mused over that. It didn't sound so bad and he had to admit, it would be nice to not have anything scraping his throat…even if his mouth was watering at the smell of the coffee and donuts. " Alright, alright…I'll eat your stupid soup. Soon as I get back from the bathroom."

Sam was on the move as Dean threw the blankets aside. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…what are you doing?"

Had someone dropped Sam on his head? Because at that moment? Dean wasn't seeing any of those college brains his brother had in action. He gave Sam a look that indicated he thought he was talking to a simpleton. "Uhhh, I'm gonna to take a leak? What do you think, Sam?"

"No way. You shouldn't be moving yet, Dean…I'll find you something to use."

Dean took a moment to catch on. "Something to…oh no…no freaking way, Sam!"

"What? Dean…you shouldn't be moving around yet."

"I'm not some ninety year old guy, Sam. I'm not peeing in some bottle in front of you and Dad. It's not happening. Now give me a hand up and help me to the bathroom or you'll be changing the sheets…" Two IV's and Gatorade? Dean felt like he was going to explode. He grunted in pain as Sam helped him to his feet and the walk to the bathroom was slow. The bandages were rubbing in some places and Dean wanted to rip them off, hating the feel of them against his newly healing skin. Maybe later he could convince Dad and Sam to let him have a shower? Dean was more than willing to submerse himself in water now that he could still recall the heat his body had known before.

Getting into the bathroom, Dean gently pushed Sam away. " I'm good…I'm fine. Get out of here, man, you've already seen more of me than I'm comfortable with…"

Sam grinned as he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He'd gotten barely five feet from the door when both John and Sam heard Dean's voice again. " Uhh…I look like a freaking mummy from the waist down…a little help here? Someone?"

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

Dean was alone in the room for the moment. Well….the bathroom. It had been several hours since his embarrassing need to take a pee, with Sam's help no less and god, if he never had to go through something like that again? He would die a happy man. Not even Hell could conjure up something as bad as that…

In the other room, Dean could hear Sam and Dad discussing the case, working out strategies as they ate lunch. He had food waiting for him out there too, but right now, he needed to do something more important.

The phone was sat on the edge of the bath beside him, the number already dialled from memory, because if there was a number Dean had made sure was locked in his mind…it was Skye's cell number.

"_Hello?"_

Dean's eyes closed, emotion welling up inside him in tidal proportions as he heard Skye's voice and thought of home, of safety…of being in her arms and knowing that he was loved and warm. " Hey…it's me." His voice was rough, both with emotion and the damage his throat had taken.

"_Oh god, Dean…" Skye's voice instantly broke and he could hear the tears that would be filling her eyes. _

"I'm okay. I…I just needed to hear your voice. Are you alright? Connor? The baby?"

"_We're fine, Dean. We're all fine. I've been so worried. I thought…I thought…" Skye couldn't say it. _

"I know. I'm sorry, Skye. I screwed up. Made a stupid mistake. It's not going to happen again, I promise." Dean was determined to take care of whatever spirit had burnt him, nearly killed him. He didn't want anyone else dying. "I'm going to take care of this and come home."

There was the sound of an sudden excited voice in the background and Dean smiled, his heart all but swelling at the sound of it. "Hey, is that Connor?"

"_Yeah, he's asking to talk to you…"_

"Put him on." Dean replied, waiting as he heard the phone exchange hands.

"_Daddy, you okay?"_

"Never better now I'm talking to you, little dude." Dean smiled. He heard Connor giggle over the phone and a tear welled up, sliding down one cheek. "You taking good care of your mom for me?"

"_Yup!" Connor stated instantly, before he went quiet for a moment. "Daddy?"_

"Yeah, little dude?"

"_You come home soon?"_

"Soon as I can, Connor. And I'll bring you home something…okay?" Dean promised, keeping his voice light and positive.

There was another scuffle with the phone before Dean heard Skye again.

"_He's gone…I swear that kid has too much energy. He's wearing me out."_

Dean chuckled and leaned back as much as he could, resting his head against the wall behind him. "So how's the baby? Still kicking as always? I miss that, you know…maybe I need to get Sam to kick me to help me sleep."

_Skye laughed, the sound soft and warm. "Oh trust me, there'll be plenty for you when you get home, babe. This kid can kick a bar of soap off my belly and out of the bath now."_

"Might have a career in football huh?"

"_Or marital arts…" Skye teased._

Dean laughed, feeling relaxed, even though he was homesick. "Just don't let Bobby try and convince them to be a grease monkey…." He laughed again with Skye, letting the conversation ease into simple talk that made them both feel connected again. Once he felt ready, he would hang up and turn his mind back to the case.

But not yet. Dean wanted to touch home…just for a little while.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxx**


	5. A Break At Last

_A/N: So sorry guys for the looooong wait for an update. Real life swamped me as well as my pregnancy wearing me out. LOL Not to mention a shocking case of Writer's Block I can thankfully say is behind me now. Hope you like this chapter after all that. There's a few little twists for you that will expand as the story unfolds more. I also have a new promo up for the next fic in this series if anyone hasn't seen it. Go to my profile and follow the Youtube link there to my account. As always, I have to give a HUMUNGOUS amount of thanks to LovinJackson and Deb for their constant support and arse kicking to make sure this was posted. _

_Now, without further ado...enjoy. LOL_

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

**Bellstown, Upstate New York. **

"Quit staring at me, Sam."

"I'm not staring." Sam protested, turning his attention instead to the neighbourhood they were parked in. Two doors up, a house was smouldering, the fire crews cleaning up and slowly packing away.

"Then quit watching me. I told you…I'm--"

"Fine. Yeah, you said." Sam cut in with a sigh. Dean wasn't fine, but considering the circumstances, Sam knew he should be grateful that his brother had taken an extra day to heal and recuperate, but even that had only happened at his father's orders. Just by glancing over at Dean, he could see his brother was still in pain. Twitching in his seat and tugging at his jeans, trying to pull them away from the bandages that still swathed his legs and the right side of his body.

The burns on his left hand were hidden by a pair of leather gloves that pulled whenever he gripped the steering wheel.

Dean knew that both Sam and Dad were unhappy with him being out, investigating the latest house fire, but Dean wasn't going to sit on his ass when another family had died. A single mother with twin boys. The thought of it made Dean sick to his stomach and he had gotten into a yelling match with Sam earlier that morning after learning about the other fires on the morning news. Sure, Dean knew that Sam had been trying to look out for him, protecting him while he recovered…but people had died. Children had died.

Dean's pain paled in comparison to the guilt he felt at having failed all those families. And just what was the deal here anyway? First one painting…now two? And if this fire was linked…did that make it three? Dean hated being in the dark on this. There had been no call yet from Sarah about the artist and Dean was starting to wonder if they were after some nut job who was using his artwork to carry out some sort of vendetta? But there was nothing to link the victims. They weren't even all in the same town. First Frederickstown, then Hartford…and now Bellstown? The town's were only a couple of hours apart in each direction. Could that mean something?

"So…we doing this?" Dean's hand was already on the doorhandle, his fake ID in his back pocket. The plan was simple enough. Bellstown was small, only a population of a few hundred. The local Sheriff and the entire Fire department had attended the blaze. Dean was going to run interference while Sam tried to get a look at the place and see if a painting had turned up.

" You sure you're up to it?" Sam gave his brother a concerned look. He had seen the way the scene was freaking Dean out, even if his brother was good at hiding it. It was the little signs, hitches in his breathing, the way his hands would tighten on the wheel every so often.

Dean glared at his brother. "We going to get into this now? I told you, Sam. I'm fine. I can deal with talking to some backwater sheriff, dude."

"That's not what I meant, Dean."

"I know what you meant." Dean replied softly. It had nothing to do with his injuries and everything to do with the fact that he was drowning in guilt over every death. Deaths that should have stopped when they took the first painting and destroyed it…if the damn thing had stayed destroyed. Dean couldn't help but see Connor in his mind's eye as he thought of the children that had died…entire families lost because he had screwed up.

Sam went to speak again, wanting to let Dean know he wasn't alone in this, that Sam had his back now more than ever. But Dean opened the door and stepped out, ending any chance of conversation.

Huffing out a breath of frustrated air, Sam opened his own door and climbed out. He waited until Dean had the local Sheriff and the fire chief both distracted, before he made his move.

The bottom floor of the house was mostly intact, but smouldering, tiny little flames were still licking in some corners. Sam grabbed a fireman's jacket hanging on the back of one of the trucks, along with a helmet, slipping them both on as he approached the house. His head was tucked down, avoiding eye contact with any fireman that he passed, making use of the fact they were all distracted by the situation at hand. Sam becoming just another face on the job.

A quick glance in Dean's direction, told Sam that his brother was in full swing, putting on the FBI agent act and asking all the sorts of questions they needed to be answered…or at least finding out what the authorities thought of what had happened here.

Sam didn't need to ask anything. He'd seen the body bags being taken from the house. He could see the small three wheeler trike out the front beside a small plastic wading pool. Another family gone with no rhyme or reason. This was exactly why Sam had left for Stanford. Because he was sick of seeing this sort of death up front. It wasn't like seeing it on the news, distant and disconnected. When you were face to face with it, could still smell the burnt flesh and know that those lives that were lost, could be saved if you just took care of the evil out there? It was harder to deal with. Painful…festering like a infected wound. Sam hated seeing what this life had done to his father, to Bobby…to Dean. Even to himself. The smell of smoke and seared flesh would always invoke painful memories of Jessica's death for Sam. That bitter stab of guilt he would always carry for not being able to save her, for not warning Jessica of the dreams he'd had of her death.

Even Elise had scars now. She would never forget taking a life and Sam would never forgive himself for putting her in that position.

A flash of red hair moved in the periphery of Sam's vision, drawing his attention away from his inner thoughts. He frowned slightly, turning to see a young girl, maybe no more than eight years old, staring at him. The moment they locked eyes, the girl turned and walked around the back of the house.

Sam followed, picking up the pace as he reached the corner of the house. There was no one in the back yard except for a couple of firemen, hosing down the back rooms. They shut off the hose and dropped it, heading back around to the front of the house again as Sam turned his head away to hide his face. Once he was alone, he lifted his eyes to see the young girl again near where the hose was now dribbling water into the yard.

"Who are you?" Sam asked in a hushed voice.

The girl lifted a finger to her lips, then turned and walked towards the house, sliding through the wall itself. Sam rushed forward, pausing by one of the broken back windows and looking into the room. On the far wall, was a painting of the same little girl he had seen a moment before. Her face was the same melancholy look that the other paintings displayed.

Sam climbed through the remains of the window, watching for broken glass in the frame as he did so. He crossed the floor to the painting, feeling the floor creaking beneath him, making Sam move with caution. He really didn't need to go through the floor or bring any of the house down on top of him. Slipping the painting from the wall, Sam headed back to the window again. He dropped the painting out onto the grass, then climbed out himself in time to hear voices approaching.

"I'm gonna need more than a couple of beers after this one, Charlie."

"Yeah…it's pretty messed up."

Shit. Sam couldn't be caught here…all but looting a burnt out house. After a split second decision, Sam grabbed the painting and sprinted for the side fence away from the firemen. He threw the painting over and vaulted over himself, praying he wasn't about to land in someone's yard where they kept a pitbull…or any dog for that matter. It wasn't as if their luck was spectacular lately, Dean's escape from death being one exception to that.

The jump had been rushed, giving Sam no time to think about the landing as he slammed down on his back, knocking the wind from his lungs. He lay there for a moment, gasping, his chest heaving as it struggled to fill his lungs again, before Sam rolled onto his side with a groan.

There were no shouts, no sign anyone had heard or seen him. The yard he was in remained quiet and dark. Sam stayed on his side a few more minutes until he was sure he could breathe properly, then he stumbled to his feet. Sam shrugged off the jacket and helmet, letting them drop to the ground before he picked up the painting.

He reached the side gate of the house, only to discover that Dean was standing near the front of the house with the Sheriff and several firemen plus the Fire Chief. Great…how the hell was he slipping past all them with a painting under his arm?

Sam watched the group, trying to see if he could somehow signal Dean? Maybe get his brother to lead them away from the front of the house so he could sneak out to the Impala? But then, there were still other people standing around, coming out of their houses, neighbours watching. There had to be an easier way.

Turning around, Sam made his mind up. He pulled himself up and peered over the back fence, finding the house behind dark as well. There didn't seem to be any sign of a dog house either, not that Sam would take that as a definite sign of a dog free yard. And just when did he become so phobic of dogs anyway? He shook himself, realising that one bad run in didn't mean every dog out there was after him…

Dropping the painting over again, Sam clambered over and this time, landed with the grace of a cat on his feet, crouching low and pausing to ensure he hadn't attracted any attention at all. When no lights flashed on and there was nothing but the sound of Sam's breath in his ears and the fire fighters in the yard behind him, Sam moved. There was no lock on the side gate and within a minute, he was standing on the curb of the neighbouring street.

Sam reached into his pocket, planning on calling Dean to swing around and pick him up…when he realised he'd forgotten his phone was lost in the fire. Well there went that idea, not to mention it made sense now why he hadn't heard back from Sarah yet. Muttering under his breath, Sam tucked the painting a little closer to his body under his arm and began walking around to the next street.

He'd just rounded the corner, when Sam spotted Dean standing near the Impala, looking around for him. Sam planted two fingers in his mouth and let out a whistle that had Dean's head whipping up and looking in his direction. Dean gave his brother a what the hell look before he climbed into the Impala and started her up, rolling down to the corner to allow Sam to climb in a moment later.

"Dude? You turn into Harry Houdini or something? I was expecting you back at the car…" Dean pulled away from the curb again, glancing at the painting now sitting in the backseat. "So that's it, huh? What the hell is it with all these kids looking so miserable?"

"I guess the artist had some sort of a theme?"

"Crying kids is a theme? How the hell do you get them to pose for the painting? Tell them their puppy got run over?" Dean bitched, heading for the town limits as fast as he could without getting pulled over by the cops. His burns were itching and sweating like hell and it had gotten to the point when he had been talking to the Sheriff, that he was going to knock the man's teeth down his throat if he had asked Dean one more time if he had ants in his pants because of his inability to stand still. Friggin' jerk…Dean wanted to see how _he_ would have handled the burns he was dealing with.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Dean bit off, taking another corner hard.

"You sure? Cause it looks like your about to snap the steering wheel between your hands, dude." Sam ventured quietly, waiting for an explosion from Dean. His brother looked like he was wound tighter than a drum right now.

Dean threw Sam a dark look for a moment, then snapped his attention back to the road again. The tension bled out of his shoulders a moment later, Dean easing off on the gas pedal a little more and letting the Impala cruise instead of eating up the road. "I want to end this, Sam. I need this to stop before anyone else dies, man. Those people are getting killed, little kids are getting killed…and for what? We don't even know. We have no fucking idea why it's happening or how to stop it or if we even can stop it."

"Dean…"

"Don't, Sam. Don't sit there and tell me that we'll 'get through this'. If I can't fix this? If I can't save these people now? How the hell can I be sure that my family's going to be safe when I'm gone? Huh? How can I keep Connor safe? Or the baby and Skye? Or you and Dad…" Dean let it drop, feeling himself starting to crack and damn it, he didn't need that either.

"Will you just stop?" Sam snapped, his voice raising so suddenly that Dean looked at Sam in surprise. "Just stop, Dean! You're sitting here, beating yourself up over things you can't change…because you've given up trying to change the one thing you can."

"Come again?"

"The deal, Dean. You've given up trying to get out of the deal…and your time's almost up and the fear of what's waiting for you is driving you crazy. Well newsflash, Dean. It's not going to go away if you ignore it. You're going to die and your going to leave Skye and Connor and the baby behind and it's time you started dealing with it!"

Dean raised an eyebrow slowly at this brother, taken by surprise by his sudden outburst. "You done?"

"Not even close." Sam told him. " Stop the car, Dean. Now."

The Impala was swung to the side of the road and before it had completely stopped, Sam had his door open and was out the minute the wheels had finished rolling. He slammed his door behind him and walked away a few paces, hearing Dean climb out of the car behind him.

Raking a hand angrily through his moppish hair, Sam spun around to confront his brother. "You really are a idiot, Dean!"

"An idiot? I'm an idiot?" Dean's temper was starting to rise now.

"Yeah, Dean! You've got everyone fighting for you, fighting to keep you from going to Hell and right now it feels like you don't want us to. You've just resigned yourself to going and that's that…end game."

"That's not it, Sam."

"Then what?" Sam spread his arms in exasperation with his brother. "What is it, Dean? Why won't you fight this? Why won't you do something to get out the deal? All you do is talk about what we're supposed to do when your gone, Dean…why can't you seen that's just not an option? Not for Skye…not for those kids…and not for me." His voice choked up as he spoke.

Dean could feel his own throat closing up now as he saw the unshed tears shining in Sam's eyes. "I can't, Sam. I just can't. If I welch on the deal? Skye dies…it's that simple. I'm not letting that happen. I can't."

"I'm not asking you to, Dean." Sam pleaded quietly. "But I can't lose you either. Not again…"

Dean dropped his eyes to the ground, feeling sick to his stomach at what this was doing to everyone. The guilt had been choking Dean for months now. Every time he felt the baby kick when Skye was curled up against him. Every time he heard Connor giggle or call him Daddy. The moments spent side by side with his father and brother, hunting, talking, being a family again when he had thought that was lost to him forever after his father had gone to Hell…

And now he was going to lose it all.

"Dean…" Sam stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. " I don't care what deal you made. _I'm _not losing you. I'm going to find a way to get you out of this, okay? Just…just don't give up on us. No more talk about you being gone. It's not happening."

Dean nodded, looking at up Sam at last but not speaking because he didn't trust his voice at that moment and this was already too much of a chick flick moment for him. He frowned as Sam took his hand from his shoulder and held it out to Dean.

"Keys, dude."

"Huh?"

"I'm driving, Dean. You look like hell and I know those burns are still hurting you. Give me the keys."

Dean was about to tell Sam just where he could stick his idea of driving his baby, when another horrible case of itching broke out and he suddenly wriggled and twisted, trying to scratch without actually scratching…cause he'd learnt fast, that if he did that? It hurt like a bitch and took longer to heal.

Pulling at his jeans again with a growl of frustration, Dean caught Sam looking at him with a mixture of concern and amusement. He huffed out a breath and handed the keys to his brother. "Fine…but don't screw with the music."

"House rules, dude…" Sam reminded his brother with a grin.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it shut and stormed back to the Impala, muttering under his breath about having the rules shoved back at him by pain in the ass little brothers.

Sam chuckled and followed Dean back to car. The Impala was back on the road within minutes, heading towards the house where they had arranged to meet their father.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxx**

John closed his eyes and silently sent up a word of thanks to Mary or whoever was watching over his boys and brought them home safely as he heard the Impala pull up behind the old house he had found earlier that day. There were still a lot of abandoned houses in these parts. People had simply walked away after the demons had unleashed their first attack on the world, moving closer to other family, deciding to start fresh somewhere with less memories.

Whatever their reasons, John was just glad it gave him somewhere to set up what he needed without being disturbed.

The centre of the dining room was bare of any furniture. A large circle had been carved into the wooden floorboards, intricate patterns surrounding it and weaving through it. Making sure that the circle's occupants couldn't escape, no matter what. John was determined that whatever these spirits were, they would stay where he wanted them to. He wasn't going to risk his boys getting hurt again. It had been too damn close with Dean.

"Dad?"

" In here, boys." John called out. He smoothed away the small shavings of wood from the last of the markings. The circle was complete now. As he stood up at last, John heard his knees crack and smiled ruefully to himself that his body was getting older on him.

Sam and Dean entered the dining area a moment later, the painting they had stolen tucked under Sam's arm. He'd told Dean that he'd grab the painting from the back of the Impala because he could see that his brother was stiffening up with pain. But the reality of it came down to Sam being reluctant to let his brother too close to another one of these paintings. He could never voice that need to protect him though. Not without Dean calling him a pansy ass and getting uncomfortable.

"You have any trouble getting those paintings, Dad?" Dean asked as he paused to examine the circle in the middle of the room and realised the paintings in question were already inside. " I guess not."

"Strapping the wings down was a bitch." John gave his boys a half grin. "But I managed to get in and out without too many questions. Always pays to know the back ways out of a police station."

" I don't doubt that." Sam nodded, clearly impressed. He placed the third painting in the circle and stepped back. "So what now?"

"Now? We wait I guess?" John scrubbed his chin absentmindedly with one hand then looked at Dean. "You say you saw the little boy from the painting before everything caught alight?"

"Yeah…he crawled into bed with me, saying something about being scared cause everyone was gone?" Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"I saw the little girl from that third painting. At the house." Sam offered up quietly, watching the three paintings in the circle.

"You what?" Dean gave Sam a surprised look. "Dude, you never said anything about it."

"I'm saying now." Sam said simply. "She walked around the back of the house and disappeared through the wall of the where the painting was, untouched like all the others. So it looks like we have a spirit attached to each painting. We just need to find out why they're causing the fires."

"First things first, you boys get cleaned up and get something to eat." John ordered. "You'll need your bandages changed again, Dean."

"I'm good for a little while yet, Dad." Dean shook his head.

"Sure, that's why you jigging and twitching like I dropped itching powders in your shorts, dude." Sam grinned.

Dean flipped his brother the bird with a sour look before it slid away to something a little more petulant. "I hate changing the bandages. It itches and the skin lifts in places. Plus I feel like a kid needing help to tie his freaking shoes."

John fixed his eldest son with a firm look. "You can't do the bandaging yourself, Dean. So suck it up for now, okay? It should only be a few more days…and it's better than what the alternative would have been."

"Alright…alright." Dean muttered, before he looked towards the kitchen. "So…you said something about food?"

John and Sam shared a look, chuckling.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

It was the early hours of the morning when the soft sound of crying awoke John. He sat up slowly from his bed roll and looked toward the noise, seeing three small children all huddled together in the circle nearby.

John climbed out of his bed roll and gently nudged both Dean and Sam to wake them, watching as his sons awoke quietly and were quickly alert, getting to their feet to stand beside him.

The children seem to huddle closer as they saw they were being watched, obviously feeling threatened.

It was Dean that moved first, cautiously moving closer to the circle and crouching down. "Hey…it's okay. No one's going to hurt you."

"You tried to." It was the little boy who had burned him that spoke up, lifting his tear stained face to meet Dean's, nothing but fear in his eyes.

"That's because you've been hurting people, killing people. You know you can't do that, right? It has to stop."

"They hurt us first. They locked us in. We couldn't get away from the fire." The little girl spoke now, looking angry. "They broke us up! We just want to be together again. Like we were before…a family. Our family."

"Who? Who hurt you?" Sam stepped forward. Finally, they were getting somewhere. Getting some clues that would help them to solve this case and go home.

"No!" The girl stood up now and it was clear to see she was older than the other two children. "You're like the others. You want to hurt us. Keep us apart! I won't let you!" Without warning, the girl was suddenly enveloped in fire, the flames exploding out to the edge of the circle before they were stopped by an almost an invisible shield.

Dean fell backwards with a yelp of fear, throwing his arms up in front of his face and feeling himself dragged backwards seconds later as John hauled his son out of harm's way. Climbing to his feet, he tried to shrug Sam off as he saw his little brother move in closer, checking him for any burns.

"Dude, I'm okay…get off me." Dean didn't put as much grit into his voice however, allowing Sam to do one final check before he backed off a few steps.

"What were you thinking, Dean? Getting that close?" Sam demanded, his heart still racing.

"They're kids, Sammy. Look at them, they're scared." Dean watched as the three children all huddled together again.

John noted that the circle had kept the flames contained and stopped the floorboards within from charring as well. The ghosts of the children were trapped still. He approached the circle and crouched down as Dean had, watching as the little boy and the dark haired girl huddled closer, while the third girl eyed him angrily still.

The little boy lifted his head and eyed John curiously. "Are…are you an Angel? You've got wings like an Angel…"

"I'm kind of like an Angel." John said softly, trying to win the boy's trust. " I want to help you all. Can you tell me where the others are? Where I can find them?"

"No, Mark! Don't tell him anything! He's with those other two. He wants to hurt us!" The blonde girl said sharply.

"But he's an Angel, Kathy. Angel's won't hurt us." Mark shook his head and moved a little closer to John, shaking off Kathy's hand as she grabbed his arm. "You can really help us find the others?"

"If you can help me, yeah." John nodded. "But I need to know where to look for them."

"They took Joshua to Twin Lakes I heard. I don't know where…just that they said Twin Lakes when they took him." Mark said solemnly.

"Thanks, Mark. That's a big help already." John assured him before he stood up and with a subtle nod of his chin, indicated to his boys to adjourn to another room. He closed the door behind him as he entered. "Sam, grab the map off the table and see where this Twin Lakes is. As soon as it's sun up, I want you boys on the road. I'll stay here and guard the paintings until you get back, see if I can't get anything else out of them that might help us."

"Yes sir…" Sam and Dean answered quietly at the same time. It finally looked like they'd gotten a break at last.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Twin Lakes, Upstate New York. **

" You do realise this is going to be like looking for a freaking needle in a haystack?" Dean flipped the indicator on to signal right and turned the Impala into the main street. "I mean, what the hell are we supposed to do? Door knock asking if people have bought a painting of a creepy ass crying kid lately?"

"I thought you said they were just scared?" Sam quirked an eyebrow with a quiet smile.

"The kids are scared…those paintings? Creepy. Who the hell paints kids like that?" Dean pulled in towards the curb and parked. " You coming?"

"Huh? Where?" Sam looked out through the windscreen, his face screwing up in confusion.

Dean chuckled softly, opening his door. "I'm getting us a couple of new phones, dude. At least then I know you can go and have your little porn sessions with Elise out of my earshot."

"Shut the hell up, you jerk!" Sam spat back good naturedly, climbing out of the Impala. "God you can be a real asshole sometimes."

"And yet I still get the cookies…see how that works, Sammy?"

The only reply Sam gave then was with his middle finger as they walked into the cell phone store.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

With their new phones safely tucked into their pockets, the boys were paused on the main street, debating their next plan of attack. Sam was ready to hit up the local library again, whereas Dean had plans to be anywhere but some dark, musty library yet again.

"Why don't you call Sarah again? See if she got your message, dude? She might have a name for us now. That's something at least, right? Beats wandering around in the dark like idiots."

"Alright, I'll call her. What are you going to do?"

"Me? I'm going to see if I can't rustle us up some breakfast, dude. Meet me down at that diner we passed on the corner. I'll grab us two breakfast specials and some coffee." Dean grinned, pleased with how this was turning out already. He was starving, rubbing his stomach as it grumbled again.

Sam couldn't argue with that. His own stomach rumbled in return, thinking about food. Just as long as he didn't start drooling like Dean? Sam was good. He clapped Dean lightly on the shoulder and sat down on the trunk of the Impala, dialling Sarah's number with his new phone as he watched Dean disappear down the street towards the diner.

Dean pushed the door open to the diner and was instantly assaulted by the smelling of fried onions, hash browns, sausage, coffee…all blending into one delicious aroma he just wanted to bask in for hours. There were only a few locals in the place and Dean made his way to the counter, planting himself down on a stool and looking up at the menu board on the wall in front of him.

Only a moment later, an older lady who appeared to be in her early fifties with long salt and pepper coloured hair swept up into a bun, came over with a notepad and a warm smile. "So what'll it be this morning?"

Dean lit up with one of his warm, charm the birds down from the trees smiles, eyeing her name tag before he spoke. "Well, Debbie, what would suggest?"

"Strapping boy like you? The Early Bird special would be my choice. Sausage, bacon, hash browns, scrambled eggs, fried onion and a side order of toast. How's that sound?"

Dean heard his stomach again and nodded with a grin. "Sounds perfect. Make it two…my brother is meeting me here shortly."

"You got it, hun. You want any coffee with that?"

"Two of the biggest cups you have would be great, thanks Debbie." Dean was starting to like this place already, finding it warm and welcoming. He flexed his hands within their leather gloves, stretching the leather a little to make them more comfortable. Man, would he be glad to get rid of them.

Reaching into his jacket, Dean took out his phone and flipped it open, punching in Skye's number and saving it. Was it too early to call her? He missed the sound of her voice and for a moment his mind drifted to thoughts of warm mornings where he had woken up spooned up behind her, his arm slid over her possessively, feeling the baby kicking beneath his hand.

"Hey, Debbie?" Dean looked up as a large mug -- more like a bowl in fact -- of coffee was sat in from him. "You wouldn't have any fresh mango would you?"

"Fresh mango? Since when did you start eating mango, Dean Winchester? Or any fruit for that matter? I always saw you being a burger and fries kind of guy."

Dean felt like a cat had just clawed it's way up his back, turning in his seat towards the familiar voice in surprise. "Cassie? What the hell? What are you doing here?"

"Well that's a nice way to make a girl feel welcome, Dean." Cassie laughed softly. "Can I sit down or would that be too awkward?"

"Oh! Hey, sit down. Sorry…I just didn't expect to find you here, that's all. You living here now?" Dean's mind was spinning as he spoke. He still recalled vividly, the last time he had seen Cassie Robinson, after saving her from that damn killer Truck…and how screwed was his life that he remembered an ex-girlfriend that way now? No…more than just an ex. Cassie had been the girl that broke his heart…twice. Awakening feelings and emotions he had buried once before…only to have them rear their ugly heads during that hunt. They'd parted on better terms at least, but the hurt had been renewed again at how Cassie had closed the door on that chapter of his life.

"You're in luck, hun, it so happens I do have a couple of mangoes out in the kitchen? You want me to bring you one?" Debbie asked him, breaking Dean out of his thoughts.

"Yeah…yeah that'd be great. Thanks." Dean nodded, turning back to his coffee as Cassie sat on the stool beside him.

"No."

"Come again?" Dean quirked an eyebrow towards Cassie.

"In answer to your question. Am I living here now? The answer is no. I'm here on a story. I'm a freelance journalist now. I'm following up on those fires that have been happening. Let me guess, that's why you're here?"

"You're here because of the fires?" Dean frowned, caught off guard a little. "Why here specifically?"

"Dean!" Sam chose that moment to enter the diner, carrying that same excited geek look on his face he always got when he caught a break and found something they needed. It was like watching a foxhound suddenly pick up a scent and start running.

Sliding onto a stool beside Dean, Sam started to talk without even realising they had company. "So I spoke to Sarah at last…she's been trying to get hold of me for the past day or so. Seems that this town does have a link to those fires. The paintings? Were painted by the one artist. Sean Baskell."

"Okay…so we know the artist now. Anything else on him? Where he lives? That sort of thing?" Dean asked, more focused on Sam, than Cassie at that moment.

"He lives here. In Twin Lakes." Cassie broke in with a small smile, watching the way Sam's eyes widened barely a second as his brain registered who was sat at the counter with them.

"Whoa…Cassie?" Sam was the picture of surprise for a moment as his brain rushed to catch up with that his eyes were seeing. "You…You're here? Wait…you know about Sean Baskell?" He looked to Dean, wondering if his brother had known about her being here.

"I'm as surprised as you, little brother…well, maybe not _as _surprised, cause your eyes were the size of dinner plates for a moment, dude." Dean smirked as he took a long draw on his coffee, closing his eyes with a small rumble of pleasure.

Debbie reappeared from the kitchen, setting out two large plates of steaming hot food in front of the boys with a smile for both of them. The smell was to die for and both Dean and Sam looked ready to devour the entire breakfast, plate and all. After another short trip to the kitchen, Debbie returned with a small side plate of fresh mango for Dean, placing it down in front of him. "Enjoy, boys."

"Mango again, Dean? I'm gonna call Skye tonight to tell her about these cravings of yours, dude." Sam teased, grinning widely as he saw the dark look his brother shot him.

"Don't even think about it."

"About what?" Sam was suddenly the picture of innocence, before his shoulders starting shaking with laughter. "Just think about that next time you bring up my calls to Elise, bro."

"So…Sean Baskell, guys? You're here for him, right? Because of those fires?" Cassie suddenly interjected, looking between the brothers expectantly. She felt like she was being shut out here and that didn't sit too well with her. Maybe turning them back to the case would let her in on their conversation again instead of her feeling like she was a stranger to them? It had been so long since she had seen Dean Winchester and she had to admit, he was looking good. Damn good. Even though she had been the one to tell him they had no future…a part of her had hoped to see him again.

Sam felt his cheeks flush a little as he realised they'd basically cut Cassie out of the conversation. Where the hell were his manners? What was he thinking? Was he even thinking? He gave her an apologetic smile remembering how Dean had felt about her the first time he'd met her and discovered his brother's surprise honesty with her. "Yeah…hey, sorry. It's great to see you again, Cassie. Really. So you're here to investigate the fires? How did you find out about Baskell?"

"What you think I'm going to reveal my sources?" Cassie laughed, the sound soft and light.

Dean smiled at the comment, but her laugh made him a little uncomfortable. Evoking too many memories he didn't need right now. "You two mind if I eat while you talk over me?"

"I need to be going anyway. I'll see you boys around, I guess?" Cassie slid off the stool, her hand brushing across Dean's back. " It was great seeing you again, Dean. Sam."

"Yeah, you too." Dean nodded at her as Cassie flashed them both a smile, then left the diner.

"Wow…Cassie Robinson, huh? There was a surprise…" Sam said as he turned his attention back to his breakfast and noticed that Dean was only picking at his now. "You okay?"

"Huh?" Dean snapped out of his thoughts and gave his brother a puzzled look. "I'm fine…why?"

"Cause your not hovering up your food like normal." Sam pointed out. "Usually I expect to have to nail the plate down before you swallow that too. What's wrong? Is it seeing Cassie again?"

"What? No!"

"Dude, I can understand if she makes you a little uncomfortable. I remember how you two were before. It's okay."

Dean stood up suddenly, dropping his fork on his plate. "I'm going to take a leak…when I get back, tell me what Sarah told you, okay? I want to finish this and go home." He walked away before Sam could answer him.

Watching his brother disappear into the men's room, Sam began to eat his own breakfast quietly, wondering how the hell he had put his foot it so suddenly? Was Cassie really such a sore point with Dean? It wasn't exactly out of the realm of possibility by any stretch, considering how serious Dean had been about her. It was no secret Dean had left last time with unresolved feelings for the girl.

Maybe Dean was right. The sooner they finished this up and went home…the better it would be for them all.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

The Impala pulled up to the curb, it's throaty rumble echoing in the quiet suburban street. Dean could see some kids playing street hockey at the end of the street, the yells and hollering the only noise once he turned off the ignition.

The house was a little run down, the garden starting to become overgrown, paint peeling from the porch and fence. Yet beneath all that, it was obvious that the place had been well maintained. Something had happened to change that.

Could it have been Sean Baskell coming home? Sam had explained back at the diner that Baskell had apparently gone back to his hometown and moved back in with his mother a few years before, but no one had seen him since. The guy was reported to have become a recluse until a year ago, when a series of paintings he had done, suddenly reappeared after being missing for a decade.

"So what's the plan this time? FBI again? Reporters? Art critics?" Sam asked, already rummaging through the box Dean kept his ID's in.

"Art critics? Dude, are you serious? Like I'd know Picasso from Pixar…" Dean watched the house, noting that Baskell was written on the mailbox. They'd found the right place then. Now all they needed to do was find out about the paintings and they could go home. It was all so simple in Dean's mind…which meant it would be nothing like that really. Dean was never that lucky. He fidgeted with the tie he was wearing, finding it restrictive. "We go in as Feds, Sam. Come on."

The brothers made their way to the front door, Dean taking the lead and pushing the doorbell, stepping back a little as Green sleeves began to play. People seriously had that as a doorbell chime? Why couldn't they have something cool…like classic rock, or that awesome revving engine doorbell Dean had seen once. Now that was the sort of doorbell Dean could consider having.

As the door opened a moment later, Dean soon saw why Green sleeves had been the choice. The woman was seventy at least, with a face so full of wrinkles, it was like a roadmap to time. Her long silver hair was drawn up into a ponytail that still reached halfway down her back. But the blue eyes that peered out at the boys, were sharp and cautious. An incredible ice blue in colour that merely added to the feeling this lady could look right through you.

"Ma'am." Dean gave her a brief half smile, looking as official as possible as he showed his fake FBI badge with Sam. "I'm Agent Seger, this is my partner, Agent Petty. We were wondering if we could talk to you about your son, Sean?"

"Sean? I'm…I'm not entirely sure how I can help you, but please…come in." Mrs Baskell stepped aside and allowed Sam and Dean to enter, closing the door behind them. She led them through to a living room was full of small crafty decorations and looked like something out of a Martha Stewart special. Lace, flowers, there were even Gingham ducks decorating the shelves, flying up the walls and peering out from frames everywhere.

Dean felt like he'd walked into the Twilight Zone as he sat down on a rose patterned sofa beside Sam and tried not to look too freaked out by the lace doilies on the armrests.

"So, Mrs Baskell…is Sean here? Would it be possible for us to talk to him?" Sam asked politely, trying not to find Dean's growing horror at his surroundings too amusing. The place was over the top for sure, but Mrs Baskell seemed sweet.

"I'm sorry, Agents, I'm afraid Sean's no longer here."

"Not here? You're kidding right?" Dean's focus was back on the conversation now.

"Well, no, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, I thought you would have known. I mean…I tried to keep it quiet for Sean's sake. His work has always been so popular and I didn't want anything to taint it, you see."

"Taint it?" Dean was growing more confused by the minute. What the hell was Baskell into?

"Yes…I'm so sorry you didn't know. I thought the authorities had been notified…"

"Notified of what, Mrs Baskell?" Sam pressed gently.

"Why, of Sean's death of course. He'd never been the same after the fire of course…all those poor children. But I thought he had finally put it all behind him after all these years. When he came home to live with me, he was getting his life back in order again, finding his muse again, you could say. Then those fires started happening again and well…Sean couldn't bear to think of any more deaths associated with those paintings. He hung himself in his bedroom, a little under a month ago. After the first fire..." Her voice choked up a little as she paused and Sam shared a look with Dean briefly.

"Mrs Baskell, what do you know about Sean's paintings? The ones of the children?" Sam asked, keeping his tone soft and polite, knowing that it was best to tread lightly here.

"You mean the ones he was commissioned to paint for the Cedarville Orphanage? Oh they were lovely paintings. Such sad little faces."

"Sean was commissioned to paint them?"

"Oh yes, the Administrator was so pleased with them! She had hoped they would help bring the orphanage some much needed public attention and help find the children homes at last. Then the fire occurred. Those poor children, it was so tragic. Sean was simply beside himself with grief over it. I guess he never really recovered, even after all these years. He was always such a sensitive soul." Mrs Baskell took a tissue from a box beside her with a crocheted dog decorating it. " I'm sorry…it's so hard to think he's gone."

"We're sorry for your loss, Mrs Baskell. We had no idea, I'll make sure the department updates our records." Sam said a little awkwardly, feeling guilty as hell for lying to such a sweet old woman.

"So how many paintings are there? I mean, it sounds like he painted a series of them, right?" Dean prompted. Sam could play the sympathy angle all he wanted. Dean wanted to make sure they didn't miss anything. "We've accounted for three paintings so far in our investigation, but if you could give us the total number, it'd be a huge help."

"Now if I remember rightly, there were six paintings. Yes…that's right." Mrs Baskell nodded softly.

"Do you have any idea where we might find those other three paintings?"

"The others? No…no, I'm afraid not. Sean wanted nothing to do with them after the Orphanage fire. I imagine the Orphanage Administrator may have sold them? I'm afraid I've forgotten her name. A lovely lady though. Always had kind things to say about Sean's work. I think she was rather fond of those paintings…."

Dean shared another look with his brother. Sam took the initiative, getting to his feet first. "Well, thank you very much for your time, Mrs Baskell, you've helped us immensely and we're truly sorry for the loss of your son."

"Thank you, dear…you'll be alright to see yourselves out? My knees aren't as kind to me as they used to be." Mrs Baskell smiled at Sam, her blue eyes sparkling with warmth and regret at how her body was betraying her in old age.

"Oh sure…don't worry about that. Thanks again for your time." Sam nodded before he followed Dean out of the house. It was noticeable how the tension seemed to bleed out of Dean's shoulders as they hit the sidewalk and headed for the Impala. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Dean ground out, pulling at the tie around his neck and dumping in the backseat when he opened the driver's door of the Impala. "Dude, did you see that place? It had little old lady stamped all over it…I was just waiting for Little Red Riding Hood to show up."

Sam laughed as he opened his door and slid into the passenger seat. "So she had a thing for folk art. She's just a harmless old lady, dude. Let it go."

"Yeah well, something about this whole thing just rubs me the wrong way, Sammy. I mean, we've got Baskell offing himself just after the first fire…so if he wasn't involved in them? Then what the hell is going on?" Dean had his arms braced on the steering wheel, the cogs in his mind turning as he processed everything they now knew. "I mean, that kid said that we'd find a painting here, but so far? Other than finding out Baskell's dead? We've got bupkiss."

"We know about the Orphanage now, Dean. I say we hit up the library and see if we can find out about that fire. Maybe get a name for that Administrator. For all we know, she could have the paintings."

"Yeah…" Dean acknowledged slowly, something still not sitting right with him. He glanced at the house one last time before he started the Impala, sighing. "I freaking hate libraries…there'd better be a hot librarian at least."

Sam smiled and shook his head. Trust Dean to try and find his version of a silver lining in a situation…

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

The library had been long and boring, making Dean even more grateful to be out of there. The Impala was headed back towards the house where their father was waiting for them. Sam was still reading through the printouts he had taken about the newspaper article. They finally had the details on the Orphanage fire…

"So did they find a cause for the fire?" Dean glanced at Sam for a moment. "Was it deliberately lit?"

"Not according to the reports from the arson squad. It was put down to faulty wiring and poor maintenance. Apparently the place was slowly being restored and rebuilt, but not soon enough before the wiring gave out in one of the wings. Several children were trapped in the fire and died."

"Let me guess…the kids that were painted?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Sam wrinkled his nose, hating this part of their job. Reading about little kids dying was something he never ever wanted to do, and yet, children were often the victims of what they hunted. It wore Sam down and now? It was wearing Dean down more. "The paintings were found untouched in the burnt out building…I guess that was where it all began then."

"So…what? The kids are connected to the paintings? Kinda like the way some tribes think photos capture your soul? Maybe something about the way Baskell captured the likeness of the kids drew them to the paintings as they died?" Dean's mind was running hot now, his eyes bright and sharp as he conjectured about what they'd discovered.

Sam was impressed, nodding in agreement as he considered Dean's suggestions. "You might be onto something there. I mean, we know Bloody Mary was pulled into the mirror, right? Maybe these paintings acted in a similar way?"

"So the kids all died together…what did Kathy say last night? That they were family? Maybe that's how they saw themselves. They stayed close, looked out for each other all the time. I mean, life in an orphanage…even a half decent one, has to be rough, right? So they band together like family. Then there's the fire…they were all killed and somehow the paintings connected with them. Maybe cause they were painted together as well? So now they're dead…and someone starts to sell off the paintings. These kids don't want to be split up…so they start these fires in the hope that they can what? Find each other again?" Dean looked at Sam and could see his brother was right on the same page with him. This was what Dean loved. Hunting with Sam, putting their minds together and connecting like that.

Sam was tapping his right knee with a pen as he contemplated that. "Dean…they're kids. To their minds, fire is what killed them in the first place…so maybe fire is what can bring them together again? It's not perfect…but it's child logic. That's why the families are finding themselves trapped in the fire. These kid's are trying to recreate what killed them in the hope of finding the others again…"

"Sam. We need to find those paintings before it happens again, dude. What about the old lady?"

"Mrs Baskell?"

"Yeah, didn't she say something about the Administrator having a soft spot for those paintings? Maybe she's got the last three somewhere? We find her? We find the others."

"That makes sense. I'll make some calls when we get to Dad. See if I can get us a phone number or an address for the Administrator and we'll pay her a visit?" Sam felt better now they had more to go on. It was following a trail and feeling like they were closer to the prey at last…..

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxx**

As the Impala pulled up out the back of the house, Sam felt a small flutter of worry when he saw his father step out of the back door. There was something about the look on his father's face, a darkness settled there, that had his heart beating faster. Looking over at Dean, he saw that his brother had picked up on the same thing, both of them cautious as they excited the car.

"Dad? What is it? Something happen with the paintings?" Dean couldn't help but quickly scan his father for any burns, coming up empty. He watched the way his father's wings were flicking and shifting behind him, announcing his agitation.

"Bobby called."

"Skye?" Dean's heart soared straight to his mouth. "Did something happen? Is the baby okay? Dad, what's happened?"

"Dean, stand down." John snapped, instantly getting the reaction he wanted as Dean paused and allowed him to talk. He took a step towards Sam, knowing his youngest was not going to like this. "Elise is in trouble."

"Trouble?" Sam's face pinched in confusion and worry, trying not to let anything take full flight without answers first. "What sort of trouble? Dad, what happened?"

"Bobby said Elise took the car to town for him, she was going to grab some supplies or something. I didn't get the specifics of that. What I do know is that she was pulled over for a random license check….and they arrested her for being an illegal immigrant. Her visa ran out months ago."

"They arrested her??" Sam exclaimed, his heart pounding hard and fast now. Ready to burst out of his chest. "What else did Bobby say, Dad? Where've they taken her?"

"Bobby said something about her being held until the proper authorities can come and collect her. Sam…they're going to send her home to Australia."

Australia? Sam felt like the air was being sucked from his lungs. No visa….illegal immigrant…they'd ban her from returning for years. Sam was staring down the barrel of losing Elise and he was a day and a half away from her.

"Sam!"

Dean's voice snapped Sam from his panicked thoughts and he looked up in time to catch a set of keys thrown at him. "Wha….what are you doing?"

"Dude, Elise needs you. Take the car and go be the freaking hero, will you?" Dean gave his brother a grin that quickly faded into something more grim. "I'm serious, Sammy. Haul ass back there and go save her."

"Dean, I….I can't take your car. You need it to finish this case." Sam lifted his hand to throw the keys back.

"What I need is you to do what I told you." Dean walked up to Sam and looked his brother in the eye. "You need to do this, Sam. A girl like Elise? Doesn't come along more than once in a lifetime, dude. You really willing to let her go without a fight?"

Sam shifted uneasily, desperate to go and save Elise, but torn about helping Dean with this hunt. "Dean…you're hurt still. You need me."

"I'll watch your brother's back. Go and get Elise, Sam. That's an order." There was no fire in his voice, no tone to force Sam to listen, because John knew his son didn't need orders. He just needed to know they'd manage without him for now.

Dean had already taken the keys from Sam's hand, opening the trunk and taking out whatever weapons and ammo he thought he might need for himself and his father. Anything else could be obtained later. Slamming the trunk shut, Dean threw the keys back to Sam again. "Hit the road, dude. And stay in touch or I'll kick your ass….and look--"

"After your baby. Like you needed to say that?"

"Hey, I always need to say it. You even scratch her and I'll take it out of your hide, dude." Dean shot back, looking at his brother pointedly. There was no need for him to tell Sam to be careful. Everything was already engraved within the lines of what had been said. Dean hated the thought of sending Sam off alone to help Elise but he had to finish the hunt.

Sam went to the driver's door and climbed in, needing to be on the road. Every minute lost was one minute closer to Elise being taken away from him. He closed the door and found his father moving up to lean in the window.

"Be careful, Sammy. And stay in touch like Dean said. Soon as we've wrapped this up, we'll be headed back."

"Okay, Dad."

"Sam." John made sure his son was focused on him. " You know you won't be able to take Elise back to Bobby's. Not right away. You'll need to lie low with her til the dust settles."

"Yeah, I know, Dad." Sam glanced through the windscreen to see Dean watching them. Did Dean realise that? His brother's face was unreadable, in true Dean fashion. "Tell Dean I'll make sure the Impala's safe at Bobby's and I'll stay in touch. Just…just watch out for Dean, okay?"

"You know I always will, Sam." John gave his son a fond smile. "Go on…get going."

Sam turned the ignition and let the rumble of the Impala reassure him that he was going to get there in time. With a nod and a tight smile towards Dean and his father, Sam reversed out and disappeared around the side of the house.

John gathered up the weapons and went inside, Dean following him as the Impala's roar disappeared into the evening air.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

_A/N 2: Don't worry, just cause the boys are split up at the moment, they'll both get plenty of coverage in the story. LOL _


	6. When The Bough Breaks

_A/N: Wow, it seems like forever since my last update. I can't thank Tara and Deb enough for thier love and support for me as I wrote this, because it was a very emotional journey, but one that needed to be written. _

_For those of you who haven't heard, I lost my baby, Abigail Louise at 22 weeks gestation. There's no real words for what that was like, for the pain it has caused me and my family but we are healing. The events of this chapter, were set in motion well before the events in my own life. This has allowed me both an outlet and a chance to take the reins and control things that were beyond my control in real life. As always, fan fiction remains my safe haven from the darkness in the world._

_I hope you enjoy this chapter and the next one will be posted much sooner. Onwards and upwards, I like to say. My love to everyone reading this and have a good, safe Christmas with your family. _

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

**Roughly 12 hours out of Kyle, South Dakota.**

Sam had barely been asleep two hours, when the sound of something rapping hard on the driver's window of the Impala, startled him awake. His first thought was to reach for the .45 he had tucked out of sight under the seat, but Sam's gut instincts warned him against the idea as the rapping came again, louder this time.

He was lying across the driver's seat with his jacket over him for warmth and as he turned his head to look, Sam realised it was state trooper staring at him through the window. Lucky he hadn't gone for the gun….

Sitting up, Sam wound down the window and gave the man a smile as he rubbed at his eyes, feeling as though they were full of grit. "Is there a problem, Officer?"

" Do you have a reason to be parked here, sir?"

Sam looked around him, trying to remember where he even was. He'd driven all night, allowing the Impala to eat up the road hungrily, pushing himself towards Elise with every passing mile. But as it had gotten closer to dawn and Sam had watched the blackness of night slowly start to give way to the gold and orange hues of dawn, he had realised how tired he was, the Impala starting to wander all over the road. Pulling into a small picnic spot just off the highway, Sam had decided to get some sleep before he wrote off the Impala and incurred Dean's wrath. "Uhhhh, yeah, sorry. I've been driving all night, needed some sleep."

"Do you have far to go, sir? We try to discourage people parking off the side of the road around here. There's been a few…carjacking's lately." The state trooper, who's badge identified him as Officer Reynolds asked, pushing the brim of his hat up with one finger as he watched Sam. "There's a town only about fifteen miles up the road where you could find a motel to stay in."

"Fifteen miles? Okay then…that sounds better than my front seat." Sam smiled pleasantly at the man.

Officer Reynolds tapped the roof of the Impala as he straightened up again. "You drive safe now, sir…have a good day."

Sam started up the Impala and watched as Reynolds climbed into his car and swung the patrol car around, heading back down the highway behind Sam. Pulling the Impala back onto the road, Sam gripped the steering wheel tightly, letting the cold air blasting through the window combine with the pounding of the stereo to keep him awake.

There was no way he was stopping at that town. Sam had already lost two hours and with no real idea of when they may move Elise, he wasn't going to waste anymore time sleeping. He needed to get to Kyle.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

Dean awoke to find himself alone in the house. The bedroll his father had been using was already rolled up and packed away.

"Dad?" Dean sat up, rubbing at his eyes and finding himself pausing for a moment on the empty space where Sam's bedroll should be. His brother had only been gone over night and already Dean was feeling out of sorts. Not seeing Sam lying there was bad enough, but where the hell had Dad gone?

Climbing out of his bed roll, Dean noticed that the paintings were still safely enclosed in the protective circle. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing gave Dean a reason to worry….beyond the fact his father was no where to be seen. "Dad, you here?"

Where the hell would he have gone? Dean made his way through the house, checking the bathroom, the other rooms, even though his gut told him that he was alone in the place. But if his father had left, why was his bedroll still there? Coming back into the dining room, Dean pulled out his cellphone and opened his address book, clicking straight to his father's cell number and calling it. He lifted his thumb to his mouth, absentmindedly aiming to chew on his nail as he waited. The taste of leather stopped him in his tracks and he kept the glove clenched in his teeth as he pulled it off in frustration. The move cost him, his breath catching for a moment as the skin on his hand pulled and stretched. It was still pink and healing, the tissue looking delicate and thin. It was ugly looking to Dean, even if it was still healing. Eventually there'd be no sign of the burns at all, but Dean hated the fact he felt like something out of a freaking horror movie. Like he'd been one of those wax figures that melted in the House of Wax. The thought of Paris Hilton buying it the way she had, brought a smirk to his face that froze as he heard his father answer his call.

"_Dean? Everything okay?"_

"Yeah, Dad. Where the hell are you?" Dean could feel his concern dying away now that he was talking to his father. All those old fears of his father disappearing and not even answering his phone starting to fade.

"_Bout a mile out from you, if that. Be there any minute, okay?" _

The call ended and by the time Dean had closed his phone and put it back in his pocket, he heard the sound of a rattling truck engine pulling up outside the rear of the house. Dean walked out the back door and paused in his tracks, looking at the ugly ass pickup truck his father was climbing out of. It was brown and white…although Dean was starting to suspect the brown was actually rust. Every panel was dented, the paint flaking off. "You're kidding, right?"

John grinned and scratched at his chin, feeling the stubble that had grown over the last couple of days. "What did you expect me to find on short notice? A limousine?"

"Would have had a mini bar at least…" Dean smirked, his shoulders lifting in a casual shrug.

"Yeah well, you'll have to settle for coffee and bagels…." John handed Dean his breakfast in a brown paper bag as he passed him and headed inside.

"What about--"

"When have I ever forgotten your obsession with pie?" John called over his shoulder from inside the house.

Dean entered a moment later, a grin from ear to ear as he looked inside the bag and spotted the plastic container holding what looked like a fat, juicy piece of apple pie for him. This was exactly why he had always liked hunting with his father. It wasn't just what he learned, the skills he was taught by a man that was his hero and had been since he was a child…but the fact they knew each other so well. Orders were given and understood without argument, signals and decisions made almost as one…a perfectly oiled machine that Dean had felt comfortable, happy even, to be a part of.

His confidence in getting this hunt resolved quickly was growing by the minute as he watched his father pull out his journal, a replacement for the one he had left his boys and start making notes. Dean sat down on the opposite side of the table without a word, tucking into his bagel with relish, almost sighing as his hunger was finally answered.

"Soon as you've eaten, put some salve on that hand and get it back in the glove, Dean." John didn't even look up as he spoke, the pen still skipping across the page, leaving cryptic notes for John to refer to later.

"S'fune…" Dean mumbled around a mouthful of bagel with cream cheese.

"It'll get infected, Dean. Salve and then the glove back on, okay?"

Dean caught his father's eye and nodded, still chewing. "Yesh shur."

John went back to his notes, a hint of a smile twitching the corner of his mouth up. Dean and his eating habits would never change. "I made some calls to Bobby while I was out…"

"You did?" Dean swallowed his mouthful, looking at his father. "Has he heard from Sam yet?"

"Not yet. That's not why I called him. I got him to track down that address for us. Marsha Powell was the Administrator of the Cedarville Orphanage from eighty three til the fire in ninety eight. She retired after that apparently. Bobby tracked down her home address for us. Soon as you've eaten? We're going to go and check out the Cedarville Orphanage, see if we can find anything there before we go and talk to Powell."

**xxxxXXXXXxxxx**

**Cedarville, Upstate New York.**

The Cedarville Children's Home was a mere shell of the huge structure it had once been. Fire had gutted most areas, roaring through the dormitories and destroying everything in it's path. Even now, a decade later, what remained of the main building was charred and blackened, slowly collapsing with decay over the years. A huge fence surrounded the place, supposedly to keep people out and stop the local youth from hurting themselves by entering the place on a dare. But as John and Dean slipped through a old break in the fence, the amount of graffiti on the walls alone, was enough to indicate just how successful that had been.

It had taken Dean an hour to help his father properly strap the wings down so they were out of sight beneath his heavy coat, in case anyone caught them. Having them secured that way by thick leather strapping was extremely uncomfortable for John although he hid it well. Dean would catch sight of the pain his father had to be in every once in a while. The briefest flash behind his eyes before it was gone again, unnoticeable except to someone who knew John enough to spot it.

"Keep sharp, Dean. The last thing we need is for one of us to fall through the floor or get taken out by falling debris." John warned as they circled the place, looking for a safe way in.

"Yes sir." Dean nodded, following behind closely.

Most of the building had lost its roof in the fire and making any progress within it was slow going. Avoiding holes in the floor and fallen structures made it hard to move and every creak and groan around them had both Winchesters on high alert. John kept a sharp eye on his son, well aware that he was still suffering a slight limp, that his mobility was hindered by his bandages and burns.

Dean's attention was split between the EMF in his hands and making sure he didn't fall over anything. The main building and dormitory area brought back nothing on the EMF. Not even a flutter. Dean didn't know whether he should be disappointed or grateful. The thought that children had been in here, had been forced to run for their lives from a fire, was something a little too close to home for him, even now.

But then, Dean figured it always would be. You never got over losing someone you loved in a fire….

"You getting anything at all?" John paused and called over his shoulder.

"Not a thing… maybe we're looking in the wrong place?"

John looked out through the remains of the nearby wall and saw one smaller building still standing. "Alright, back it up. We'll go and see if the other building gives us anything…"

It took another half an hour of careful backtracking before they were clear of the main building again. Dean was glad to be wearing his gloves now. The soot around the place would have played havoc with his burned hands and put his healing back further.

As John approached the smaller building, he spotted that the chains which should have been holding the doors shut, were hanging loose. A closer inspection revealed that the padlock holding the chains had been cut. John picked up the broken padlock and looked at it, handing it over to Dean as he drew his gun from the back of his jeans. Dean followed suite, covering his father as the door was slowly pushed open and John stepped inside.

There was still a smell of smoke and soot in this room, but it came more from the furniture and other fittings stored in the room, rather than the room itself. Still clinging to the fabrics and grains of everything even after all this time.

Dean was on edge now, the smell of the place envoking memories he had thought long lost. Of how his father had smelt like smoke and damp clothes for days after the fire that had killed his mom. He didn't even know why that had come back to him now, but it took a moment for Dean to shake himself and block it out.

Something fell, deeper into the building, catching the attention of both hunters. John held up a hand to Dean, signalling to him to stop while they got their bearings on the noise. Footsteps were approaching now, softly but surely.

John signalled to Dean to hide on one side of the room while he took the other, the pair instantly blending into the shadows with ease. Like the creatures they hunted.

A lone figure moved past them, heading towards the door cautiously, their movements indicating they didn't want to be caught. But as Dean got a good look at the figure, he lowered his gun and stepped out, grabbing them by the arm. "Cassie, what the hell?"

Cassie spun around, startled and jumping out of her skin at first until she realised who had grabbed her. "God, Dean, you scared the crap out of me!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded, shaking his head ever so slightly at his father as John stepped out of the shadows.

John tucked his gun back into his jeans and lifted his chin towards Cassie as he asked, "Care to introduce your friend, Dean?"

"Dad…this is Cassie Robinson…I….I met her back in Athens, Ohio. " Dean half turned towards his father, more at ease with this stranger than John had expected his son to be.

Athens, Ohio. The cogs starting clicking into place at that moment and John narrowed his eyes ever so slightly towards the young woman.

John wasn't about the forget the way Dean had been after that event. The kid had barely said two words to John for a week. Just sat there looking like someone had shot his puppy in front of him. It had taken John a whole day to notice the change in his son. No drumming along to the music, no conversation. He'd been silent and sullen. Another day had passed before John realised that there was something really wrong, trying to casually ask Dean if he was okay, only to get no reply other than a shrug of the shoulders or a nod of the head. After an entire week of silence, John had finally picked up on what the issue was….and not because Dean had told him anything. Dean wasn't one for opening up about something like that.

No, it had happened by chance. John had gotten up in the middle of the night to take a leak and overheard his son in the other room…on the phone to his brother in Stanford. At the time, John had been grateful that Sam was at least taking his brother's calls, preparing to leave them to it….but as he listened and heard the pain in his eldest son's voice, an anger had grown within him towards this girl.

"It's nice to meet you, Cassie." John was polite as he gave the girl a curt nod. He could do this…he could be polite, even if he wanted to haul Cassie aside and demand answers from her, demand to know just what she had been doing? What had she done to Dean for him to be so hurt? And why the hell was she here now?

"This is your Dad? It's…it's nice to meet you too, Mr Winchester." Cassie gave the man a smile. It was obvious where Dean and Sam got their looks from. "Where's Sam?"

"He had something to take care of…" John replied, still assessing this girl. He didn't know if she was gutsy for coming here alone…or just stupid.

"So…" Dean cut in, drawing Cassie's attention back to him and away from his father's cutting gaze. "What are you doing here? Alone?"

"I've been doing some digging." Cassie informed Dean with a smile. "It seems that before the paintings started turning up in all those homes? They were stored here for a decade…"

John and Dean shared a look before the elder Winchester started heading deeper into the building.

"They had the paintings here? Did you find anything?" Dean asked as he began to follow his father, Cassie following closely behind him. He slid his EMF from his pocket and flipped it on, watching as it lit up for a brief moment then when silent again. But as they moved further into the building, the EMF began to register more and more until it was screaming its high pitched alert as they found a large sheet of cloth lying in a heap near a far wall.

John crouched down, lifting the cloth and noting the dust that had been disturbed already. A couple of picture frames were still lying against the wall, the paintings contained within them of brightly coloured scenes of animals in a jungle and children at play in a park.

Dean crouched down beside him, waving the EMF over the spot and watching as it went ballistic. "We've got a winner…." He switched off the meter and raised a questioning eyebrow at his father. "So you think the paintings were here before….what? Powell moved them? What the hell would she want with a set of creepy ass paintings?"

"Maybe she's making money from selling them? Something to buffer her retirement?" John rubbed his chin thoughtfully, feeling the stubble bristling through his fingers.

"You think she'd do that?" Dean's brow knitted together as he considered it. "What, she figured no one would notice her selling off the paintings for a few extra dollars?"

"It's possible…or maybe they were considered lost in the fire? Hell, Dean, she commissioned the damn things. For all we know, she owns them anyway…" John answered.

Dean nodded in agreement and stood up again, tucking the EMF away inside his jacket. "Guess we really should go pay her a visit then, huh?"

John straightened up, hearing his knees crack. " Yeah, I'll call her and see if I can organise an interview with us…you organise us a couple of suits, okay?" He turned towards Cassie then. "And you should go home before you get hurt."

"Hey, I'm not a kid. You've no right to tell me what to do. I've got a story to follow up on and I'm not walking away from this without something to print." Cassie argued indignantly. "I was here before you anyway…"

Dean grabbed Cassie by the elbow and pulled her aside. "What are you, five now? Dad's just trying to look out for you, that's all. You've seen how many people have died already."

"I'm not having him treat me like a kid, Dean. You have a job to do…and so do I, okay? Good luck talking to Powell tomorrow…" Cassie jerked her arm out of Dean's and spun on her heel, stalking out angrily.

Dean watched her leave, blowing out a huff of exasperated air before he heard his father's voice behind him.

"You always did like them fiery…."

Turning to see the bemused smirk on his father's face, Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but Cassie's kind of exception to the norm…."

"Ex girlfriend's normally are." John said knowingly. He'd had his share in high school before meeting Mary. It had both worried and amused John over the years to see how much his son's taste in women and dating habits had been like his own. But if there was one thing John did know…it was that Mary would have approved of both Skye and Elise, seeing how they looked after the boys. "Let's move. I'll buy something for us to eat on the way back."

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

**One Hour Out Of Rapid City, South Dakota**

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face and rolled his shoulders as best he could without taking his hands off the wheel. He'd swung by Kyle and met Bobby at the town's only drugstore, picking up a bottle of caffeine tablets that were designed to keep truck drivers frosty on the road…and enquiring as to how Skye and Connor was going.

He would have loved to have stopped by Bobby's place and seen them for himself, but Bobby couldn't be sure if he was being watched by Homeland Security after Elise's panicked phone call the day before. So the meeting was brief and discreet, Sam getting the supplies he needed and hitting the road again as soon as he knew where Elise had been taken.

**Rapid City, nearly three hours drive from Kyle. **

As the music kept blasting, Sam popped another caffeine tablet, grimacing at the bitter, chalky taste of it before he washed it down with the cold dregs of a truck stop coffee. The added boost had his heart dancing a rumba for a moment before his body adjusted to the new levels of stimulant coursing through his system. But it would keep him awake and that was all Sam needed.

He wasn't going to stop again until he hit Rapid City and found Elise. Too much time had passed already. Each passing mile making him more and more nervous that Homeland Security could have already moved her. That he would never find her again before she was shipped back to Australia.

The thought of that had Sam's knuckles white on the steering wheel as he pushed the pedal down harder again, feeling the Impala surge under him. His body was screaming at him to stop and rest, that being behind the wheel for so long, on such little sleep, was insane…but Sam refused to listen. He kept his focus on the road, his mind set on his destination.

There would be time for sleep later when he had Elise safely back in his arms….

**Meanwhile…an hour away**

"You're gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up." The redheaded woman sprawled on the lower bunks, a hand rolled cigarette perched on her bottom lip as she spoke.

"What do you care? It's not like you own the joint, is it?" Elise snapped, pacing back and forth in her cell, chewing on the corner of her thumb nervously. She'd lost track of time inside the lockup of Rapid City Police department, minutes starting to drag into hours and with every passing hour, Elise knew she was getting closer to being collected by Homeland security. Closer to being shipped back home to Australia and while she would love to see her family again, to have a chance to see Matt and her mum in the flesh and hug them instead of merely talking on the phone….it meant losing Sam.

It had been hard enough saying goodbye to Sam on the morning he had left with Dean. But they were only going to be gone a few days…maybe a week. That sort of time Elise was willing to cope with. But if she was deported, she'd be barred from returning for years….and that was leaving a cold knot of fear in her stomach.

"You gotta learn to just relax and let whatever's gonna happen? Just happen, hun. If you're in here? It's too late to be thinking bout much else." The redhead drawled again, pitching the soggy butt of her cigarette into the steel toilet bowl in the corner.

Elise didn't even bother answering the woman. She was being sent back to Canada according to the tale she'd spun hours before when they'd thrown her in here.

Canada.

Elise wanted to take the packet of roll your own tobacco out of the woman's pocket and ram it down her throat every time she tried to commiserate with her that she "understood what she was feeling".

How the hell could she? She wasn't being taken away from the one person that had made the last few months make sense when the world had become insane and dangerous. She wasn't losing the one person that made everything look golden again just with a dimpled smile or a laugh that chased away whatever was worrying you.

If Elise was being sent back to Canada, she could try skipping the border again and be back with Sam. Although there'd be no "trying" cause she'd just damn well do it.

"Arrrgh…shit!" Elise flinched suddenly, pulled her thumb away from her mouth and seeing blood welling up. Great, she'd bitten down to the skin. Rolling her eyes as she flicked her hand trying to ignore the pain, Elise felt tears pricking the corner of her eyes. _Damn it, Sam… where the hell are you? I need you…._

**Somewhere on the I-90 outside of Rapid City**

The voice was so soft at first, that Sam almost missed it. His fingers had been drumming to the beat of TNT by ACDC when he heard it in the corner of his mind.

Sam went still a moment later, his hands still locked on the wheel as it barrelled down the highway, but his focus no longer on the road. What the hell? That couldn't have been….could it? Sam knew he was able to pick up on Dean's thoughts and enter his dreams, was able to tune into his brother's presence without any effort at all, because his ability there was merely an extension of the bond he had always had with Dean. That unspoken connection that grew out of living with someone so closely for so long.

But this was different. This had been Elise's voice in his mind and for a moment, Sam was simply stunned that he had picked up on it.

It had been faint, but there had been no mistaking it either. Not with the fear and desperation he had sensed. But could he find it again? Could Sam use that to actually find Elise? Rapid City was exactly that…a city. He had no idea how he was going to find her in time, but that hadn't discouraged Sam.

This gave him even more hope though, the weight he'd carried in his chest at the thought of losing Elise lifting now as he realised he could find her. He just needed to reach out to her, make that connection stronger.

Pulling to the side of the road for a moment, Sam left the Impala idling as he shut off the music and closed his eyes. He reached out, trying to cover the distance ahead of him, seeking that voice, that familiar essence that was Elise.

For several minutes, there was nothing. Sam kept his eyes closed, his hands braced on the steering wheel as he pushed further and further, feeling a tremble setting into his body as the strain on his mind began. He'd never done this before, hadn't tested himself like this.

Dean had been easy, had happened without Sam even realising it. But this? Connecting over this distance with someone that had no idea what he was doing? It hurt like hell. Sharp, needle like pain was driving through his mind. Starting from behind his eyes and piercing through his brain as Sam grunted in pain, gritting his teeth against it as he continued. _Elise?….Elise….can you hear me? Please….answer me._

A thin rivulet of blood ran from Sam's nose, dripping from his lip as he curled it into a sneer as the pain increased. His knuckles were white on the wheel as the trembling in his body increased. _Elise, you have to be there…_

_Sam?_

The reply was so sudden and so loud, that Sam gasped in surprise, his eyes snapping open. The connection was broken as quickly as it had been established because of the shock of actually finding her. But with new hope, Sam closed his eyes again and pushed yet again. _It's you, isn't it? You can hear me?_

_Oh my god! Yeah, I can hear you. Wait…How the bloody hell can I hear you? I'm not going crazy am I? Hearing voices…you know what they say about tha--…. Christ, listen to me prattling on here. Is it really you?? Where are you?_

Tears were filling Sam's eyes now as he told himself it was the lack of sleep that was the cause of them. Not the sheer blinding relief he was feeling at hearing Elise's voice and feeling her presence in his mind. _It's me. I'm near Rapid City…I'm coming to get you._

_Are you shitting me?? _

Sam choked out a broken laugh as he heard the surprise in her voice, mixed with relief and hope. _No…no, um, shitting you…_

_Good…cause I'm ready for you to came charging in with the cavalry. Flag waving, horns blowing, the whole kit and kaboodle, mate. _

_The whole what? _Sam frowned at her terminology until the sound of Elise laughing in his mind had a wide grin splitting his lips.

_Nothing…forget it, Sam. I'll brush you up on your ockerisms when you get me the bloody hell out of here. _

Sam could feel the connection starting to slip suddenly, the pain in his head starting to spike, becoming liquid fire. _Ow…ow…okay, I'm losing you…just…just hang in there…I'm on my way. I'm coming to get you, I promise…_

Another dribble of blood slipped from his nose and dripped off his lip as Sam hissed in pain, leaning forward to press his head to the steering wheel until the trembling in his body began to subside. He had a throbbing headache now, aching behind his eyes and making Sam feel nauseous. But the connection had been made. He knew now how he would find Elise, how to home in on her presence.

Fumbling through the glove box, Sam found a couple of napkins Dean had probably swiped from a roadside diner. He held one to his nose until the bleeding began to subside, lying his head back against the seat back and closing his eyes.

Sam was tired, his head was pounding…but for the first time in the last twelve hours…he had a reason to smile.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

**Kyle, South Dakota**

The digital clock beside the bed was tormenting Skye. That much she was sure of. Its readout laughing at her with each passing minute after midnight.

It had become a nightly ritual for her to wake up through the night at least once to go the bathroom, thanks to the pressure of the not so tiny life growing inside her. Most times she had been able to just stumble out without really waking up, just moving on autopilot and crawling back into bed, falling asleep again minutes later.

But ever since Dean had left, Skye had found it harder and harder to get back to sleep. The bed was too cold, too big, too empty. She would sprawl out in every damn position and angle she could, trying to get comfortable…..all to no avail.

It was time to face facts. Skye had grown too damn accustomed to sharing the bed with Dean. Without his body to spoon against, she was lonely….and unable to sleep.

It sucked.

Rolling over for what seemed like the millionth time since she had attempted to sleep that night, Skye was careful not to disturb the sleeping figure of her son, lying on Dean's side of the bed in almost a vertical position. What was it with kids sleeping in weird angles, taking up as much bed as possible? It was like a tiny sleeping version of tug of war that you were doomed to lose as a parent.

Reaching out to push his soft blonde hair back from his face, Skye froze, sensing someone was in the room with her. She kept perfectly still, hearing nothing but the sound of her breath, the thudding beat of her heart in her ears and the soft breathing of Connor beside her.

"That's such a sweet sight…maybe we should take a snapshot for Dean? Since he's away being the hero of the day, huh?"

Skye rolled towards the voice as she sat up, her heart now beating wildly in her chest as the figure smiled at her through the moonlit shadows of the bedroom. His golden eyes were watching her as a smug smile appeared on his face. "What do you say? Some little token for Dean to remember this moment by? Cause he's going to want to remember it."

"You….you can't be in here. This isn't happening…" Skye whispered, shifting on the bed to make sure she was between Azazel and the sleeping form of Connor behind her.

"Oh this is happening, kiddo. You don't think I'd miss out on an opportunity like this? Why do you think I had you taken in the first place? For kicks? Because you were a key? Just to set that waste of flesh you call a boyfriend off on a wild goose chase and lead him straight to me? Come on, Skye…you're smarter than that…you know what this is about…"

Skye slid a hand to her swollen belly, horrified. "No…No!"

"Now she gets it….we have a winner, ladies and gentleman." Azazel stepped forward out of the shadows, approaching the bed and sitting down on the edge of it, still smiling like a Cheshire cat. "You don't actually get a say in any of this, kiddo. It's already been decided. The paper work was signed in blood, by Dean's very own hand….all to save your life. What did you think the price was for cheating death? Dean's soul?"

The Demon laughed then, as though it was the best damn joke he'd heard in a long time. "His soul's not worth anything to me. Not even a nickel. But your son? That's something else….tell Dean when you seen him that he should always read the fine print before he signs anything…."

Before Skye had a chance to move away, Azazel reached out and placed his hand on her stomach. Pain blossomed under his touch, spreading out slowly as it intensified until Skye was screaming, doubled over in sheer agony as it felt like the fires of Hell themselves were trying to burn through her skin.

And then with a horrified gasp, Skye bolted awake, all the hair on her arms and neck lifting into goose bumps as she tried to catch her breath, looking around the room frantically. Connor was still asleep beside her, twitching for a moment before he shifted in his sleep with a soft sigh and started to snore ever so slightly.

Tears filled Skye's eyes and she covered her mouth to stifle a sob, not wanting to wake Connor. Her hand went to her belly, feeling the baby rolling and moving beneath her touch, making Skye close her eyes for a moment as she fought off the overwhelming urge to burst into tears. It was nothing…just a nightmare.

Sliding her feet to the floor, Skye shrugged on her dressing gown and padded through the darkened hall towards the bathroom once more. As she got half way down the hall, the pain struck, burning through her back and slowly sliding around to the front, her belly becoming rock hard. Skye let out a gasp and slipped to her knees, knowing something was wrong. She looked down at her sweat pants and saw blood. "Oh god…no, no, no, no….no, please."

This couldn't be happening. No…it had been a dream. Just a dream….this wasn't happening!!

"Bobby!!" Skye screamed, praying that the hunter would hear her. "BOBBY!!"

From down the hall, she heard a door crash open, then heavy footfalls running towards her. A light was switched on and Bobby skidded to a halt before her, shotgun in hand, nothing but an old pair of sweats on. "What's happ--….Sweet Jesus." He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, the blood leaving his face as he realised the situation. "Hang on, darling…just hang on, we'll get you to the hospital."

Twenty minutes later, having bundled a very sleepy and confused Connor into the back of the Chevelle, bundled up in a blanket against the cold, Bobby slid behind the wheel. He glanced at Skye riding shotgun and tried for a reassuring smile. "Everything's gonna be alright….just stay calm. I ain't gonna let anything happen to you or that little one…okay?"

Skye nodded, too scared to say a word, finding herself preferring to remain silent and just build a mantra inside her mind. _Please no, please no, please no….just no…._

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

"Dean…"

"Nrgghhhh." Dean frowned slightly and shifted in his sleep. The voice could bite him, there was no way Dean was opening his eyes or even attempting to wake up…no way. Not at this time of night.

"DEAN!"

No way unless Dad was bellowing at him, that is. Like the crack of a whip, Dean snapped awake and sat upright. "What? What is it?"

"Answer your phone, dude…." John muttered and rolled over in his bedroll, huffing out a tired breath and mumbling about how Dean needed to learn to sleep lighter.

Fumbling for his jacket beside him, Dean dug through a pocket, his fingers locking around the offending object and retrieving it. He flipped it open and stabbed the answer button before sleepily putting it to one ear. "What is it?"

"_Dean?"_

Any thought of sleep was instantly erased as Dean heard Skye's voice. She sounded so small, so scared and every cell in his body was on alert in a heartbeat. "Skye? What is it? What's happened? Are you okay?"

"_No." _

Her voice was shaking now, barely holding on. Dean swallowed the lump he felt sure was his heart in his throat. "What's wrong? Is it Connor? The baby? Skye…talk to me, babe. What's happened?"

John had sat up now, watching his son with deep concern as he tried to pick up clues from the one way conversation. He climbed out of his bedroll, pulling on his jeans and slipping on a shirt. He flexed his back and shoulders, stretching his wings to their full expanse. Having them strapped up for a good portion of the day before had been damn painful and even now, the muscles felt tight and cramped. Whatever was happening with Skye, John didn't need to hear it to know it was bad….and that meant he had to be ready. He picked up his boots and slid his feet into them, lacing them up tightly as he listened to Dean's one-sided conversation.

"_There…there was blood. Dean…there's blood. The baby…what if something is happening to the baby? I…I can't do this. I need you…please…please, Dean."_

"Blood?" Dean's panicked gaze shot up to look at his father. He was pushing the bedroll covers off, pulling on his jeans with the phone cradled to his ear. "How much blood? What does that mean? Where are you?"

"_Bobby's taking us to the hospital right now. I…I wanted to call you. I needed to hear your voice. He said it was the fine print…you didn't read the fine print."_

"Who said?" Dean frowned, completely lost now. Bobby was talking about fine print? Skye sounded so frightened, so lost and confused at that moment. Dean knew she was closing down, her mind trying to protect her…and it was killing him that he wasn't there with her. "Skye…what fine print? Who are you talking about?"

"_The Demon…"_

"Son of a fucking BITCH!" Dean growled, starting to pace now. He was going to kill that bastard. He was going to make sure he never fucking harmed another fucking member of his family. Pausing mid- stride, Dean suddenly asked, "Wait…you saw him? You saw Yellow Eyes?"

"_I thought it was just a nightmare…but then there was all the blood…and it hurts. Oh god, Dean…it hurts! I know this pain. I'm having contractions…It's too early. I can't be having these now." _

"Hey…hey! It's okay, Skye. Bobby's right there, babe and he's going to take good care of you…I promise. I'm gonna get there as soon as I can. As fast as I can. I swear. Just try and stay calm…" Dean felt ridiculous for even suggesting that. How the hell was Skye supposed to stay calm at that moment? Dean felt a tear escape the corner of his eye, sliding down his cheek as he fought to keep his voice level and calm. "I'm on my way, Skye. It's gonna be alright. I promise."

"_Dean? Dean, I'm losing signal…I have to go. Please….I need you."_

"I'm on my way, Skye, I promise. Just…I love you. I'll be there soon." Dean assured her, his voice choking up with emotion that he fought to swallow down again. This wasn't right…this wasn't meant to be happening. He was 12 hours away at least…if he drove all night. How the hell could he get there in time? What if they lost the baby? Everything was closing in on Dean as he paced, closing the phone when he heard the call disconnect on Skye's end. He couldn't think, couldn't focus…couldn't breathe…everything was closing in on him.

"Dean!" John took him by the shoulders, stopping Dean's wild pacing. He shook his son lightly, seeing such intense pain and fear in Dean's eyes as his head whipped up, that John felt like he'd taken a physical blow to the chest. "What's happened?"

"Skye saw the Demon….in a dream. At least, she said it was a dream. Maybe she really did see him. I'll kill that fucker…I swear I'll fucking kill his demonic ass!"

"Dean! Stay focused. What's happening with Skye?"

The anger left Dean as quickly as it had reared it's head, leaving him looking broken and scared like the little boy John had pulled from their home as it burned. "She's losing blood, Dad. Something's happening with the baby…"

"Fuck!" John lowered his head, his own anger beginning to burn hotly in his veins. Not again. This couldn't be happening again….

"Dad. Dad, we have to go…we have to get back there. I'll grab the duffels, you get the truck started." Dean pulled himself from his father's grip and reached for his bag.

"Dean, wait."

"Wait? Dad we have to go now."

John knew this wasn't going to go well. But it was the only choice he had. "You have to stay and finish this job."

"WHAT? The hell I do! Skye's fucking bleeding, Dad! That's my baby we could be losing and your telling me to stay and do the fucking job? Fuck the job! I need to be with Skye!" Dean raged, unable to believe he'd heard his father say something like that.

"And what about the people that have died, Dean? What about the people that could still die? I know this is hard. Jesus, you think I want you to stay here when this is happening? But the hard facts are that more people will die if you don't finish this. More children could die."

"I don't fucking care!" Dean headed towards the door, intent on going to the truck and just getting out of there, going back to Skye. He was stopped short by his father stepping in to block his way.

John fixed his son with a hard glare then. "You don't, huh? You don't care that whole families are dying and you could stop it? Take a moment and calm the fuck down, Dean. It'll take you, what? Twelve hours to get to Kyle? In a good vehicle…and don't kid yourself about that pickup, it's a piece of shit. You'd be lucky to get there in eighteen hours in that bucket. Whatever's happening to Skye, you won't get there in time and you know it."

"So what? I'm supposed to just sit here with my thumb up my ass? For all I know? Fucking Yellow Eyes is behind this…and I'm supposed to just let him hurt Skye? Kill my kid? What the fuck, Dad?" Dean planted both hands on his father's chest and pushed, not giving an inch. Not this time. Even if it was true, that he couldn't get there in time…he still had to go.

John caught Dean by the arm as his son tried to shove past him, forcing him to turn and look him in the eye. "You can't get there fast….but I can. I don't have to follow roads. I can get there and protect her for you with Bobby until you wrap up this job. You're seeing Powell in the morning. You find where those other three paintings are and you take them back to the where those kids died. You burn them there. That should end this and then you haul ass back home where I promise you, Dean….Skye will be waiting and she'll be okay."

"You can't….you can't promise that." Dean swallowed thickly, tears in his eyes, starting to wear down and feeling sick to his stomach as he realised his father was right. He couldn't get there as fast as his father could.

" I can." John assured Dean without telling him why. There would be time for that later. "You have to trust me, son. Skye is going to be okay. You need to stop these fires…"

"You'll keep her safe? You swear she'll be safe?" Dean's jaw was tense as he spoke, his hands clenching into fists as he desperately looked to his father for assurance.

"I swear." John placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Get the hell out of here. Tell Skye…..tell her I'm coming home. Don't let her know I'm staying to finish this?" Dean felt like his mouth was full of ashes. Torn between his love for his family, and the harsh reality of needing to stop more people from dying. Choosing strangers over the woman he loved. Dean felt like an asshole.

"I'll tell her to expect you soon. You watch your back, Dean." John nodded, already heading for the door. It had been hard to do that to Dean. John wanted more than anything to be able to get his son to Skye at that moment, thinking of how he would have felt if he'd been in that position with Mary. It had been a shitty call to make…but the only one John had right then. Lives were at stake on both sides and John could move faster. Logic was a bastard sometimes.

As he pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool night air, John sent up a silent prayer to Mary, asking her to watch over Dean. Keep him safe while John watched over Dean's family for him.

His wings unfolded with a snap, scattering the dust at his feet before John took a running start and launched into the air easily. Strong, muscular strokes drove him higher and higher, the ground falling away rapidly as he ate up the distance towards South Dakota.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

**Pine Ridge, South Dakota. **

Skye had been focussed on breathing through the pain since she had climbed into the Chevelle, her vision blurring with tears every time she thought of what was happening. Her hands were nestled protectively around her belly as she sent one silent plea after another to God or whoever was listening in the Universe, begging them not to let this happen.

Bobby had been silent himself, hell bent on getting them to the nearest hospital that could cope with something like this, the Chevelle devouring the road like a ravenous animal, it's engine tearing the stillness of the night apart as it rocketed towards it's destination.

In the back seat, Connor was curled up, hugging his knees close. He didn't know what was wrong, why Mommy was crying and so scared…but it had to be bad, cause it had made Bobby go all quiet too. He pulled Mr Woobie closer and hugged the brown bear tightly, careful not to make a sound in case that scared Mommy too.

As the Chevelle finally swung back into civilization again, Skye took in her surroundings, looking at Bobby. "Bobby? Where are we?"

"Pine Ridge…closest hospital, kiddo."

"But…but this looks like a Reservation…what if they won't see me? What if they tell us to find another hospital?"

"That's not going to happen, Skye. Don't go getting yourself all worked up, just try and keep calm." Bobby told her firmly.

"Calm…yeah.." Skye snorted, tears filling her eyes again as she saw the hospital ahead of them.

Joe Red Shield looked up as he heard the Chevelle pull up outside of the small emergency department. There were a lot of old cars around Pine Ridge, but that particular Chevelle wasn't familiar to him and neither was the man in the trucker hat who climbed out of it.

"You can't park there." Joe stated, balling up the candy wrapper he'd just finished, pitching it into a nearby trashcan as he moved towards the man.

"I ain't looking to park. My friend here's in trouble. Please." Bobby said over his shoulder as he opened the passenger door and helped Skye out.

Joe Red Shield assessed the pair, knowing what the regulations stated. He didn't recognise the woman and one thing he was sure of he was sure of, was that she didn't live on the reservation. "I'm sorry. We can't treat her here. There's another hospital over in Gordon. They'll be able to take good care of her there."

"You're kidding me? That's another hour away. She needs help now!" Bobby argued, letting go of Skye to round on the man. "She's pregnant, dammit! And she's bleeding. You want me to keep driving? How do I tell her little boy that his momma lost the baby because we stopped at the wrong damn hospital?"

Joe looked at the pair as a small blonde boy climbed out of the back of the car and looked at him. He reached out and slid his hand into his mother's without saying a word, his bright blue eyes watching Joe solemnly.

"They could have my ass for this, but alright, wait here." Joe hurried inside, returning a few minutes later with a wheelchair and easing Skye into it.

Bobby stayed right beside Skye as she was walked inside. He kept one hand in hers, the other holding onto Connor as he stumbled along silently beside them, clutching Mr Woobie to his chest. Once they reached the cubicle, Skye was carefully helped from the wheelchair and up onto the bed beside her.

"Wait here. I'll send someone into to see you soon." Joe informed the pair with a tight smile before he pulled the curtain around them to offer some small amount of privacy.

Skye looked around at all the posters, health warnings and other paraphernalia that decorated the walls, trying to keep her mind off of what was happening, fighting back tears with every breath. God she hated hospitals. Too many memories of sitting in a waiting room with Connor, wondering how to explain the bruises on his neck, terrified they would take him away. Now she was fighting for another child, another baby and it made her hate hospitals all the more.

"You just hang in there." Bobby was leaning against the medical supply cupboard behind him, his arms folded. "Everything's going to be okay."

"You don't know that, Bobby." Skye tried hard to keep the tears out of her voice, glancing at him briefly before she dropped her gaze to the floor. Her hand slipped across her belly as Skye silently prayed for the tiny life inside her to hold on.

Fresh tears spilt down her face as her shoulders shook with soft, quiet sobs.

Bobby stepped forward, enveloping Skye in a huge, bear of a hug, tucking her head under his chin as he rubbed her back. " I swear, darlin'. I'm gonna do everything in my power to keep you and these little 'un's safe. Nothing's going to get past me. Just try to stay calm and focus on relaxing for the baby, okay?"

There was such a conviction in his voice as he spoke and Skye surrendered to the comfort of his presence. Ever since she had met Bobby Singer, she had trusted the man. His word was his bond. All she had to do now, was wait and pray for a miracle.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx**

**Rapid City, South Dakota. **

The headache was at epic proportions by the time Sam reached the city. Sporadic nosebleeds had followed after the contact, making Sam grateful that Dean wasn't with him. Dean would have freaked by now.

Not that Sam could have blamed him. He was kinda freaked himself about it all. What if he was harming himself using them?

Sam could hear Dean inside his head, making quips about how _it's not a tumor _and thinking his bad Arnie accent would take Sam's mind off it all.

In that moment, he wished Dean was actually with him. He would have liked to have known his brother was at his back right now. The thought that he was going on the run for who knew how long, troubled Sam and he only hoped that Dean was going to understand.

Pulling over at a gas station, Sam was careful to lock the Impala before he headed for the men's room to the side of the building. The place was a battle zone of odours. Stale urine and other unpleasant scents warring with the faded smell of bleach and urinal cakes.

Sam let the faucet run for a moment before feeling the tepid water with one hand. He cupped his hand under the flow and washed his face, watching the basin become tinged with pink briefly as he scrubbed the remnants of dried blood away.

There were still spots on his shirt, Sam noted as he looked at his reflection in the cracked, dirty mirror before him. His eyes were sunken, his face pale except for a few scattered freckles. The dark shadow of stubble graced his chin, reminding Sam just how long he had been behind the wheel.

Not much longer.

That was what Sam kept telling himself as he finished washing his face and headed back to the Impala.

He was tired and hungry, his body pushed beyond what it should have been over the last 15 hours of driving. Logic dictated that Sam should stop here and get some sleep, maybe buy some crappy gas station food to stop his stomach from rumbling.

But Sam was done with logic. Logic was trying to take Elise from him because of a stupid visa. After everything that had happened, the world changing and coming closed to being overrun by demons, people were still clinging to the same bureaucratic bullshit as before and Sam was expected to just blindly bow down to that? Let them take Elise without a fight?

No fucking way.

Sam was done with losing the people he loved.

He slid back behind the wheel of the Impala and she answered him faithfully a moment later when he turned the key. Every moment that Dad and Dean had lavished over on the Impala over the years made perfect sense now and Sam found himself giving the steering wheel a gentle pat as he murmured, "Just a little further, okay?"

Great, now he was talking to the car like it could hear him. Wouldn't Dean love to see him doing that?

Bracing himself against the pain that he knew was about to follow, Sam reached out with his mind, seeking Elise once more so he could home in on her.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

Oh that was it! Elise was going to take her crappy, lumpy so called pillow off her cot bed and smother her cell mate with it. The woman had done nothing but smoke and chatter constantly ever since they'd been locked up together and now? Now she was making some sort of wet, snorting, gargling snore as she slept that made Elise think of a hippo being strangled underwater.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think murderous thoughts and failing miserably. If this was supposed to soften her up before they shipped her back to Australia? It was going to work. Elise was tired and at the end of her tether now. She hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Skye or Connor. A quick call to Bobby, just to tell him what had happened and where she was, was all they had allowed….and even then, Elise had felt bad for calling him and bringing down that sort of trouble to his door.

_Elise…hey… can you hear me?_

Elise sat up sharply, tears suddenly stinging her eyes. "Sam?" She flinched, realising she was speaking out loud and risking someone hearing her. _I can hear you. God, I can hear you and you sound so bloody good right now._

Elise heard Sam chuckle in her mind and it brought a smile to her face.

_Can you give me any idea of where they have you? _

Slipping quietly off her bunk, she walked to the cell bars and looked out into the corridor, up towards where she could a lone police officer sitting at the duty desk. "Hey…hey, mate!"

"Keep the noise down." The cop called back, not even bothering to look up from his muscle car magazine.

"Aw come on… don't be like that. I'm bored out of my mind here…figured I might find out where to send the thankyou card when they ship back home from this shithole." Elise called back sweetly, sarcasm giving her words a sharper edge towards the end.

The cop snorted and looked up from his reading for a moment. "Is that right, sweetheart? Well you make sure you send it to the boys at the third precinct. Rapid City PD…" He smirked and blew a kiss, chuckling at the look of revulsion on Elise's face as she backed away from the bars again.

Elise went back to her bunk, climbing up as she spoke to Sam again. _Third Precinct, that any good to you?_

_I'll find it. Just hang in there a little longer…I love you…_

Elise smiled as she lay back on her bunk, already seeing in her mind, the shy little smile on his face as he said those three words to her.

_What are you going to do? _Elise asked suddenly, realising what Sam was planning. She was in a Police station. Full of heavily armed cops. _Sam? You're not going to do anything stupid are you? Sam?_

_Just trust me. I've got it under control._

_You know? My brother says the same thing and usually? That's when we end up taking him to the ER…. _Elise told Sam nervously, wishing she knew exactly what he was planning.

Sam's soft laugh had Elise smiling again, tears filling her eyes.

_You okay?_

Elise stilled. _Uh…yeah, why?_

_Nothing. Just…don't cry, okay? I'm getting you out of there._

Elise didn't know how Sam was able to sense she was crying, but she felt connected to him. _Just don't go getting hurt, okay?_

_I promise._

With that, the connection severed and Elise curled up on her side to wait for him, her fingers locking onto the ratty pillow below her head, silently praying he'd be alright.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

Parking down from the third precinct, Sam watched the building for a little while. Noting how many were coming and going. This wasn't going to be easy by any means but considering that it was now the early hours of the morning, there would be less police to deal with.

Sam climbed out of the Impala, locking the door as he crossed the street, smoothing down his suit as he went. This had to work. Sam wished he had Dean's ability to sell himself with a fake ID.

The desk sergeant didn't even look up from his paperwork as Sam entered the foyer. Sam held back for a moment, checking to see if anyone else was around. The place was deserted. It was now or never.

The man looked up finally, boredom clear in his eyes. "Something I can do for you?"

"I'm here to collect Elise Rogers for transport." Sam looked official as he spoke, allowing the cop a brief look at his ID before he put it away again.

The desk sergeant eyed Sam up and down, his expression becoming one of suspicion. "I thought all you Homeland Security boys travelled in pairs?"

Sam shrugged casually, playing it cool. "My partner ate something on the road that didn't agree with him. He's back at the motel room, I'll pick him up on my way out of Rapid City."

Yeah, sure…Sam wouldn't have bought that line himself, let alone expect this cop to buy it. He could see the walls coming up, shutting down any chance Sam had of doing this the easy way. He'd been so nervous about this and now Sam had let it get the better of him, screwing up a situation that should have been so easy to do if he had handled it right.

"Let me see that ID again."

Shit. Sam knew he was busted now. It was time to take things up a notch, even if the thought of it was scary for Sam. He hadn't had to use his abilities much since they had holed up at Bobby's, allowing himself to almost forget them….feeling more human and normal again in Elise's presence. Forgetting the demon blood polluting his veins.

But in doing so, he had left himself weaker. Tuned out of all that anger and rage that had fuelled him so easily when he had thought Dean was dead. No wonder he had bled each time he reached out to Elise with his mind. Sam was slipping, his abilities were slipping….and right now, Sam couldn't afford that. Elise couldn't either.

Placing his hands on the duty desk, Sam leaned forward a little, looking the cop right in the eye. _"I'm here to collect Elise Rogers. Bring her to me."_

It should have worked. Should have gently pushed the cop with a psychic suggestion like Andy Gallagher was able to do. But as Sam watched the cop lean back in his chair, his arms folding over his chest, Sam knew he had failed.

"I don't know who you think you are, son? But you'd be wise to step back and get the hell out of here before I lose my sense of humor." The cop warned him, fixing Sam with a hard look. He snorted dismissively as Sam backed away and headed for the exit. "Homeland security, yeah right."

Sam pushed the front doors opened and rushed outside, his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing harsh in his ear as he leaned against the railing on the front steps. Dammit, he was letting his nervousness get the better of him and he had to suck it up and do this! Elise was counting on him.

But to access the abilities, the power that Sam had let grow dormant since they had been at Bobby's, he would have to find that darkness within him that scared Sam. The deep, gnawing hatred he had carried after he thought Dean had been killed. It wasn't something Sam wanted to do. What if every time he tapped into that dark well, he pushed himself further and further towards becoming a monster? Becoming what Yellow Eyes had always wanted him to be?

His long fingers curled around the metal stair railing feeling the coolness on his sweaty palms as he let his breathing deepen, trying to calm himself. This is what he had driven all this way for? To punk out now because he was afraid of the darkness within in? Elise wasn't scared of it. She had shown that the first time she had met Sam….he needed to trust in that.

A black SUV caught Sam's attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned towards the vehicle, noting the markings on the side as it turned into the station's underground parking area. Homeland Security. The real ones.

It was as if a switch was suddenly flipped in Sam's mind, his fear transforming and changing into something more potent. Lethal. Angry.

Right there and then, Sam knew he had to get Elise out of there or lose her.

Closing his eyes, Sam filled his mind with images and thoughts of Elise, of how she had saved him, kept him from falling into the darkness so easily when he had thought Dean was dead and he'd had nothing left to lose.

He could see her smile, hear her laugh. The daisy chain she had made him. Every moment was suddenly captured and crystallised in his mind, driving the pulsing anger now through his veins. They were going to take that from him? The hell they were.

The desk sergeant was startled, his hand instantly reaching for his gun as the front doors suddenly crashed in, one of them snapping at the hinges and skittering across the floor. Before the sergeant was able to even unclip his weapon from it's holster, he was picked up and thrown across the room, bouncing off a bulletin board and hitting the floor hard.

Sam strode into the station, a whirlwind of scattered paperwork swirling and spinning through the air around him like the flakes of snow in a snow globe.

Three other police officers all went for their weapons, standing up from their desks inside the small office space behind the front desk. The weapons were pulled from their hands before they found themselves all thrown backwards into the far wall and pinned by an unseen force.

His gait was sure and determined now as he passed the front desk and headed towards the stairs he knew would take him to the cell area.

"Hey!"

Sam didn't bother turning his heard towards the sound, he simply lifted his hand towards them, letting his anger guide him now. There was a startled yelp and a bullet zipped past his ear to bury itself in the wall beside him, but then the only sound was a body hitting the floor and a groan to indicate they were alive still.

_No deaths. Not this time. _Sam kept reminding himself of that as he walked down the stairs, taking them easily with his long legs, feeling closer to Elise with each step. It was as if she was giving out a siren song and he was unable to resist. All he wanted was to have Elise safe in his arms again.

No one needed to die tonight. They weren't the bad guys. Just misguided. They thought that their rules mattered, that Elise was bound to the same constraints as everyone else. That she was normal, like them.

Sam knew better. Elise was special. His. She was the light in his world of darkness and that meant she was untouchable. He would do anything, give anything to keep that light shining.

The world had taken his light away when it took his mother and left him to be reared in a cold, harsh world of hunting without ever being allowed to have that taste of normal. A taste he had finally known in Stanford before Jess was ripped from his life.

Elise was not going to be taken as well.

"Freeze!"

Another voice, another police officer trying to do their job. Sam felt the power surge through his veins with such ease now, connected to it again, listening to the dark intoxicating whisper of it's snakelike voice through his mind. Pushing him, coaxing him to protect what was his. It was all coming back to him so easily. How in control he felt with this power rushing through him, how right it felt.

Officer Collins had enough time to see a flash of eyes that were black, dancing with golden flecks that seemed to dance like flames…before he felt himself swept up off the floor and thrown into a wall. His skull connected with a crack and the world went dark….

The maelstrom of debris and paper continued to follow Sam as he walked towards the cellblock. The fluorescent lights above his head popped and exploded as he passed them, his gaze never shifting from his goal, his stride still sure and purposeful.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

Officer Holt had dropped his magazine as he heard all the commotion approaching. He was crouched down behind his desk, his gun drawn and held in one sweaty hand. What the hell was going on? Sure, there'd been stories of weird shit happening ever since the world went nuts and came back from whatever those terrorists had unleashed….but they were just stories, right? Demons and other crazy stuff like that weren't real…

"What's going on out there? What's up with the damn lights?"

Holt rolled his eyes, huffing out a sigh of frustrated air as he heard the brassy redhead from the cells calling out. "It's nothing, sit down and shut up, okay?"

Elise was sat on her bunk, her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the light in their cell flickering. A small smile was gracing her lips. She knew what that meant, who that was. Soon…very soon now.

Her cellmate was pacing the bars now, a lit cigarette hanging from her lips again as she muttered herself about how "no-one was telling her anything."

A sudden, startled yelp filled the hallway, before Officer Holt sailed past the cell and slammed into the wall at the end of the hallway.

Elise slid off the bunk and went to the bars, her heart racing now. God, was this it? Had Sam actually busted into a police station for her? "Sam?"

And then he was there. Elise felt the air catch in her throat and felt her heart skip a beat or two as it hit her that he was really there in front of her. He looked tired, deep dark circles under his eyes, his skin paler than she remembered him…but still her Sam and the smile on his face was all Elise needed to see before she was thrusting her hands out through the bars.

Sam stepped up and thread his fingers through Elise's, feeling that surge inside him, a blaze of warmth and light again as he drank in her presence and knew she was safe again. "Fancy meeting you here…"

"Get away!! Get away from her!!" The redhead screamed as she threw a pillow towards Sam.

It thwacked into the bars beside Elise as she rounded on the woman furiously. "You know? I've put up with your snoring and your talking shit for the past few bloody hours, rabbiting on and fucking on about Canada, about your life …and you know what? You can shut the fuck up right now or I swear to God I'm gonna knock your bloody teeth down your throat!"

Dragging a hand through her hair to calm down again as the redhead nodded quickly and withdrew to the furthest corner, Elise turned back to the bars to find Sam grinning in amusement. She shrugged with a sheepish grin. "I don't do well under stress…."

"I can see that." Sam smiled.

"So…you going to…you know? Use your whammy on the door or something, Obi-wan?"

Sam's grin grew even further as he heard Elise use a term Dean was fond of. His brother would have loved to have witnessed that for sure. With a soft jingle of metal, Sam held up a set of keys he had taken from Holt. "Thought I might go with something more traditional…"

"Gee, way to kill the moment there, hero." Elise teased as she watched, almost holding her breath as the keys slid into the lock and opened the door. Then in two short steps she was moving forward and into Sam's arms, feeling him lifting her off the ground before he kissed her hard. Everything faded out for that short moment. All Elise knew was safety and security in Sam's arms again, the taste of his lips on hers, the scent of him on her skin.

But the moment had to end, Sam lowering Elise gently to the ground, his large hand enveloping hers as he led her towards the exit from the cells. "We have to go."

As they raced back up the stairs, Elise could hear voices ahead of them. Loud voices shouting to each other, the sounds of furniture being moved. Her heart was racing again, fear starting to settle in her stomach as they drew closer. "Sam?"

"Just stay behind me…it's okay." Sam assured her calmly.

There was a quiet confidence in his voice that quelled her fears, Elise tightening her grip on Sam's hand as they finally left the stairwell and found themselves in the main foyer. Faced with dozens of armed police who had barricaded themselves behind desks and bench seats, their guns trained on Sam and Elise.

"Hold it right there!" A voice barked at them and Sam could see it was one of the Homeland Security Officers. "Put your hands behind your heads and get face down on the ground. NOW!"

"We're leaving." Sam told the crowd of police, quietly, calmly. He canted his head slightly to one side and watched as the police were suddenly frozen in place, the fear in their faces, the way their wide eyes looked around wildly, the only indication they weren't statues.

"Come on.." Sam turned to Elise, gently squeezing her hand as he took a step towards the door. Just a few more feet, that was all they needed and they would be safe and free.

Where the shot came from, Sam had no idea. He heard the sharp report of it from behind him, just to the left, from a doorway he had missed. Then Elise was crying out, her hand jerking out of his as she crumpled to the floor, blood already pooling through her shirt where she had been struck in the shoulder.

For one solitary moment, everything was still and calm. There was no sound, no breathe. Just stillness….and then it happened. The energy punched out of Sam like the detonation of a nuclear weapon, a bright white shockwave of rage, anger, grief and power that blew everyone off their feet, shattered desks and shattered windows into glass dust.

In the centre of the destruction, unscathed and trembling with the power he had just released, was Sam, standing protectively over Elise. His chest was heaving, his heart pounding in his chest as tears stung his eyes, his teeth still bared in a snarl at the fact that Elise was hurt and lying at his feet.

A hand on his leg snapped Sam out of his own little world and he instantly crouched to pull Elise to him, scooping her up close against his chest and cradling her as he scanned the room for movement, daring someone to try and stop him. He wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck now. Not now.

"I'm okay…I'm okay, Sam." Elise said softly against his neck, her voice tight with pain.

"You're gonna be fine…" Sam assured her shakily as he pressed a soft kiss to her hair, to the top of her head as he carried her from the now quiet police station. He was careful not to jostle Elise too much as he got her to the Impala and helped her inside. This wasn't supposed to have happened, damn it! Elise shouldn't have gotten hurt.

The Impala surged into life as Sam turned the key and he was never more grateful for Dean's insistence that he take the muscle car. They peeled away from the curb and into the night as sirens began to fill the air behind them.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

**Pine Ridge, South Dakota.**

"Ms Anderson?"

Skye looked up as the doctor entered the cubicle. She was still sat on the gurney, too scared to move because that could set the contractions off again. The pain had eased, but not stopped and that scared her the most. What did that mean? Did that mean the baby was lost? Could they still do something? All these questions were going to drive her insane soon.

Bobby had been sat on the only chair in the cubicle with Connor on his knee, reading the toddler a book to pass the time and distract him from the pain Skye had been in. But the moment the doctor entered, Bobby was up, gently placing Connor on the seat before he moved to stand beside Skye.

The doctor couldn't help but be reminded of a old guard dog bristling at him as he watched the man fold his arms. He didn't look fast, but the eyes were sharp and watchful, not missing a thing. "I'm Doctor Edgars." He held his hand out to both Skye and Bobby, noting the careful way they both took it in turn. "Apart from the obvious, how are we feeling?"

There was a kindness in his tone that broke something loose in Skye and she felt tears well up again, her throat closing up as she fought to find her voice. "It's…not so bad. The pain…but still there."

Edgars nodded and gave a warm smile, placing a hand over Skye's. "I can bring in a small ultrasound machine if you like? I'm not properly trained with it…but we can at least try and see what's happening? The Obstetrician isn't going to be able to be here for another couple of hours yet."

Skye glanced at Bobby, then nodded. "Any answers would be good right now…"

"Alright, I'll just be a few minutes."

"You sure you're up for this?" Bobby asked worriedly as soon as they were alone. If the scan showed nothing but bad news, it would devastate Skye and she was already at the end of her rope. Tears were never far away. Her body still and quiet, Skye pulling further and further within herself with each passing moment, as if that could protect her. As if she could withdraw from the world itself and stop time by doing so.

His cellphone suddenly rang in his back pocket. A nurse appeared, glaring at Bobby as he dug the offending item out of his jeans and waved a hand at her as he stepped past her. "Alright, alright., I know…take it outside. I forgot I had the damn thing."

Connor glanced up from his book on the chair as Bobby left the cubicle, then drew his knees up to his chest, clutching Mr Woobie closer as he went back to his book. His eyes were large and wide, watching every shadow. Any noise drew his attention and made the little boy jump.

"Connor, you wanna come get a candy bar? You can choose?" Bobby suddenly reappeared at the curtains, glancing at Skye as he silently queried whether getting Connor out of there was a good idea. He received a tight nod in response and turned back to Connor. "We'll come right back to check on your mom after that…"

"Sir, you have to take that phone outside, now!"

Bobby shot the nurse a frosty look that dared her to move him before he got a reply from Connor. A moment later, he felt a tiny hand slide into his and looked down to see Connor looking up at him. "Mommy have choc'let too?"

"Sure. You can pick one for Mommy too, pal." Bobby smiled. He gave Skye a curt nod and led Connor away through the doors of the ER, heading for a Candy machine he'd seen in the waiting area.

"Ms Anderson?" Doctor Edgars appeared again, wheeling a small trolley into the area and then pulling the curtains around them again. "Can I get you to lie down? Or would you like to wait for your friend to come back?"

"No…n-no, I'd rather we did it now, actually. I don't want my son to see." Skye laid back on the gurney, automatically sliding a hand over her belly protectively, before she laid it down beside her.

Edgars lifted her shirt up slightly, moving the clothing aside to expose her belly before he picked up the tube of gel from the trolley. "This is probably going to be cold, sorry…"

"That's okay…I'm used to it." Skye told him with a short, broken laugh. Her heart was rushing in her chest as she watched the ultrasound handpiece being lifted and brought over to her belly. Time seemed to slow and drag out, each thud of her heartbeat the deep resonating beat of a bass drum now. Her gaze was locked on the Doctor's face, trying to read what he was seeing, too scared to look at the screen. Every little furrow of Edgars' brow had Skye all but holding her breath, tears welling up now as a voice in her head began to mock her.

_It's over…it's all over and you know it. You've known from the start._

"Ah there we go…"

"I'm sorry?" Skye was scarcely able to find a breath suddenly.

Edgars turned the screen so that Skye could see and there….in shades of grey and black, was her baby on the screen. "There's the heartbeat, still going strong, perfect rhythm in fact although a little higher, which is to be expected with all that's happened."

"Wait…what does that mean? Is…is everything okay?"

"Well I can't say for sure what's happened or why? We'll need to do a more thorough scan for that. But I can tell you that right now, that baby is very much alive in there. I'll go and call Doctor White Elk and let him know what the scan's said, then we can move you up to Maternity for now for observation. Just try and stay calm. I would say that everything is going to be just fine, despite the scare you've had." Edgars assured her.

Skye stared at the screen, overwhelmed for a moment by the sight of the tiny heartbeat she could see pulsating on the screen before her. The baby moved a moment later, the motion felt through Skye's belly as she placed a hand there, tears flooding down her cheeks.

"Are you going to be alright here?"

"Yeah…I'm fine. Thanks." Skye nodded as she looked up at the ceiling, placing her hands over her stomach. She closed her eyes, feeling tears escaping to disappear into her hair and not caring at all. Now all she wanted to do was hold onto that feeling, that hope…and to know that everything would be okay.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

"Yeah?" Bobby answered the phone at last. It was the third time it had rang since he had left Skye.

"_Bobby? Where the hell are you? What the fuck took you so long to answer the phone?" _

"Nice to hear your voice too, John." Bobby growled dryly back down the phone. "I've been knitting a sweater for you…is turquoise your colour? What the fuck do you think I've been doing you idjit!? I'm trying to keep Skye and Connor calm."

"_Where, Bobby? Where are you? I'm standing on your front fucking porch in the dark right now."_

"You're in Kyle? Guess those wings of your paid off huh?" Bobby chuckled, his smile dropping away as he heard the growl on the other end of the phone. "Oh don't go getting your panties in a twist, John. We're at Pine Ridge Hospital."

"_The Reservation?"_

"You know another hospital closer?"

"_Alright, point taken. I'll be there soon."_

"Just watch yourself, John. You don't want to get seen with those wings." Bobby warned him.

"_Can you help me strap them down when I get there?"_

"Yeah, you know I can." Bobby didn't like the idea, knowing the pain it would cause the man, but what choice did they have?

"_Bobby? How's Skye….is she-? The baby?"_

"I don't know, John. They were going to be doing some scans when I came out here to answer your damn call." Bobby glanced towards the hospital. "I should get back in there, check on her."

"_You do that. I'll be there soon to help. Watch yourself, Bobby and keep them safe for me." _

"You don't even have to ask that, you dumbass. Just get your ass here." Bobby rolled his eyes and ended the call. He looked down to see Connor watching him with solemn eyes.

"Poppy?"

"Yeah, your Poppy's gonna be here soon, kiddo…let's get back to your Mom, huh? See if she wants that Butterfinger you're holding before it turns to mush." Bobby grinned at the little boy before he took him back inside.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxx**

**Somewhere just off W Highway 44, southwest of Rapid City, SD.**

It had been a risk, turning down the side road towards the farmhouse, hoping that the owners wouldn't see the lights and come out to check why there was a car pulling into the barn. Sam wasn't even sure if the farm was still in use. There had been no lights on inside the house that he could see, but there was still cattle in the field and as he turned off the ignition, there was plenty of machinery parked around the Impala inside the barn.

But it was as he carried Elise up to the house, that Sam noticed the thick layer of dust on the porch. No one had been up here recently and as he looked in through a front window, there were sheets over the furniture. The place looked abandoned.

"Are you okay to stand for a moment? I need to pick the lock…then you can rest inside." Sam told Elise quietly as he eased her down onto her feet. Blood was still soaking through the shirt Sam had given Elise earlier to press to the wound. A lot of blood. It worried Sam, but he had to keep that worry from showing. He could handle this. It was no different from all the times he had sewn Dean up after a hunt. Elise just needed the wound seen to and bed rest. That was all.

Everything was going to be just fine. Sam couldn't bear to let it be any other way.

The door had a relatively simple lock on it that Sam was able to bypass easily, before he picked Elise up again and carried her through to the living room, lying her out on the couch. "I'll be right back, I'm going to get some hot water and the first aid kit from the car."

"Sam." Elise grabbed his arm as he went to stand up and leave. "Don't be gone long?"

"I'll be right back. I promise."

Elise closed her eyes and tried to think of something other than the pain she was in, the numbing ache in her hand and wrist where she had kept the shirt pressed to the wound through their drive here. Every flashing blue and red light they had seen, had almost sparked a full blown panic attack in Elise. If they had caught them, what would Sam have done? Would they have hurt him?

It seemed ironic to her now, that she had been the one worried about Sam being hurt…and now she was bleeding out in some farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

"Okay…I need to get your shirt off." Sam told her as he reappeared with a small first kit and a pot of hot water from the kitchen. He placed the items down and gently helped ease Elise up into a sitting position.

"You know, most guys would buy me a drink first before they asked that." Elise said with a quiet, strained smile.

"I'm a lousy date…but I can make you breakfast in the morning?" Sam took a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and gently ran them down the back of Elise's shirt, slicing cleanly through the material. It fell away easily and allowed Sam to remove the shirt without too much pain to Elise. Leaning in closely, he gently bathed the wound, noting that it appeared to be a through and through bullet hole at least. It was a small relief, considering the blood Elise had lost, but it did mean she was spared Sam needing to dig the bullet out.

"This looks pretty clean…maybe a couple of stitches front and back and I can bandage you up. Are you ready for that? I can wait if you need some time to brace for it." Sam watched Elise carefully, cupping a hand to her face, his thumb grazing her cheekbone as he silently apologised for all of this.

"No, I'm good. Let's just get it over with, okay? And you'd better believe I want breakfast after this, mate. In bed. Coffee, bacon, eggs…the lot." Elise gave him a watery smile, taking a slow calming breath in preparation for the next part.

Sam threaded the suture needle, his hand surprisingly calm as he placed the point against Elise's bare shoulder. He let out a breath he'd been holding slowly and glanced at Elise, meeting her gaze. "Here we go."

Each time the needle slid through her skin, pulling the wound closed, Sam felt his heart clench. He could hear the breath catch in Elise's throat each time. Felt her body twitch and then stiffen as she rode through the pain, air whistling through her nose and gritted teeth.

It only took a few minutes, but by the time it was done, they were both shaking. Sam put the suture needle away in the kit and sat down on the couch beside Elise, drawing her gently into his arms. Her head lay on his chest as he softly kissed the top of her head, rubbing the small of her back in slow, gentle circles. "I'm sorry. I should have thought about it more…I could…I could have gotten you--"

"Hey!" Elise sat up slowly, looking Sam square in the eye. "Don't you start that shit with me, Sam. You got me out of there. You drove across the country…for me. Don't you dare apologise."

"You got shot!"

"Yeah and it bloody hurts, but not as much as the thought of losing you, okay? Not where near as much as that hurt." Elise told him honestly. "So don't apologise, ever."

Sam searched Elise's face for a moment, reading the truth in her eyes before he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, cupping both hands to her face and just giving himself to that moment.

A soft sigh left Elise's lips as she felt Sam's kiss deepening, his tongue sliding in to gently explore and tease. After a moment, Elise pulled away and laid her head on Sam's chest again, listening to the strong, muffled beat of his heart beneath her as it lulled her to sleep.

The pair remained on the couch, Sam's own eyes closing only moments later as his body gave into the exhaustion he'd been fighting. His breathing evened out slowly as Sam's arms slid around Elise and locked her to him, keeping her close and safe as they slept.

**xxxxxXXXXxxxx**

**Pine Ridge Hospital, South Dakota.**

Get some sleep, they'd said. Just relax and take it easy until Doctor White Elk was able to come see her and they could do the scans. Skye was sure they meant well. After all, the Maternity ward was quiet and the nurses had been in and out to check on her every so often. In case she needed anything.

But all Skye needed was answers…and Dean. Even to hear his voice right now would help. But there wasn't a phone in the room, and Skye couldn't use her cell inside the hospital.

All she had was the soft buzz of the tv in the room, it's light casting a soft glow over her as she lay there, flicking through infomercial after infomercial. Bobby was asleep on a fold out cot with Connor curled up beside him. There was barely enough room for them both and Skye knew that the older hunter was going to wake up regretting the idea in the morning, but he'd insisted on helping Connor sleep, his arm draped over the little boy. Connor's was clinging to the arm, even in sleep, his face turned in against Bobby's chest, the pair breathing in synch.

The was a faint pneumatic hiss as the door was gently pushed open and a figure slipped inside, his silhouette instantly recognisable by the large wings he had tucked in behind him. John took a moment to ensure he hadn't been spotted, before he closed the door.

For a brief moment, Skye's heart skipped a beat and began to rumba in her chest, looking behind John for the familiar shape of Dean…but when she came up empty a moment later, her heart sank to her stomach.

"Dean will be here, Skye." John assured her as he pulled a chair up quietly beside her. He had to reverse the chair and lean on the back of it to accommodate his wings. "He's on his way, I promise. He made me promise to keep you and Connor safe until he gets here."

Skye nodded, not trusting her voice at that moment, her throat closing up again.

"What have they told you?" John asked, reaching over to place his hand over Skye's.

"Nothing, really. We have to wait for the Obstetrician to arrive in the morning. They want to do more scans, blood tests…the whole nine yards." Skye told him, trying not to let it show how much it was freaking her out. "But they did a scan in the ER and it showed a heartbeat…that's a good thing, right? It means everything will be okay?"

John could see such desperation in Skye's eyes as she looked at him. She needed this to be okay and right now, Dean couldn't be here to reassure her. Leaning forward slightly, his wings shifting slightly before they settled against his shoulders again, John knew it was time.

"The baby's going to be fine, Skye."

"You don't know that for sure, John. That dream I had was so real…Yellow Eyes was real. What if he's hurt the baby?" Skye kept her voice low, not wanting to wake Connor or Bobby as she voiced her fears.

"Listen to me, Skye. The baby will be okay. I know it will. I've seen this before. I've been through this before."

"What? John…how? When? I..I don't understand?"

John knew that this was going to scare Skye. He wished more than anything, that he was wrong, that he hadn't seen this before. But that wasn't the truth. He had known another woman, watched her go through the same fear and doubts about her baby. Had sat by her bed and reassured her back then, that everything would be alright, that the baby would be safe.

"Skye…Mary had the same sort of dream when she was pregnant with Sam."

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxx**


	7. Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

_A/N: Sorry this chapter has taken so damn long guys. Real life conspired against me in a big way and writer's block followed soon after. I hope the wait has been worth it. I'm feeling good about this story again after a lot of self doubts and I owe a HUGE debt to LovinJackson and Deb for thier patience with me. Without you guys, this fic just would not be getting anywhere. Thank you!!! _

**xxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx**

**Bellstown, Upstate New York.**

The world was sideways when Dean opened his eyes again. He blinked blearily, disorientated for a moment . His head snapped up sharply and Dean stopped, groaning as his neck and back protested the movement. Great, he'd fallen asleep face down on his journal. The page was slightly damp and Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought that he'd been drooling in his sleep.

That was usually Sam's department.

He ran a hand over his short hair, trying to shake off the last clinging vestiges of his nightmare. It was fading fast now, nothing but blood and pain, Skye screaming in terror.

The sort of nightmare Dean was grateful not to remember. He reached into his pocket as he leaned back on the hard wooden chair he was sat on, hearing his back pop as he stretched it while he retrieved his cell phone.

Flipping the phone open, Dean could see that he hadn't missed any calls or messages. Damn. Why the hell hadn't Dad rang him yet? Or Skye for that matter?

Dean pulled up his call list and flipped through to his father's number, hitting the button to dial it. His jaw twitched a moment later as the call cut straight through to voicemail. Just great. Freaking voicemail again. Just like before Dad had died…and always when Dean needed to talk to him the most.

Hanging up the call, Dean dialled Skye's number's next, desperate to hear her voice. But voicemail greeted him again and Dean tried not to panic as he listened for the tone before he spoke. "Skye…hey. I…uhh…I suck at using voicemail." Why was the hell was he suddenly so nervous? _Suck it up, Winchester. It's just fucking voicemail! _"Look… I really need to hear your voice, okay? I need to know you're okay, that the baby is okay. Call me when you get this? I'll…I'll be there soon. "

Dean ended the call and smacked the heel of his palm against his forehead. He'd sounded like a total dick then, letting his anxiety show when he should have sounded calm and confident for Skye's sake. He was pacing the room now, his mind racing. He was supposed to be getting ready to see Powell and find out if the Administrator was the reason for the fires. Dean needed to finish the damn hunt and right now? He couldn't even think straight. All he could think about was how scared Skye had sounded over the phone last night.

Pausing mid stride, Dean leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, feeling it pull on his bandages and still healing burns as he took several deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. Panicking wasn't going to help anyone. Dean needed to get organised, get to his meeting with Powell and get this over with.

He straightened up again, grabbed his duffel bag and headed through to the bathroom in the house. Stripping down, Dean looked at the bandages swathing the lower half of his body. They itched and needed to changed. As he unravelled them from around his body, the skin underneath was bright pink and looked pulled tight, almost paper thin. The bandages would have to be replaced after his shower, something Dean wasn't looking forward to. That much bandaging alone? Was going to be a bitch.

The hot spray of the shower felt like heaven to Dean as he stepped under and gently ran his hands over his body, careful of his burns. Sweat and dead skin washed away under the stream, giving relief and easing the insistent itching that had been plaguing Dean. It wasn't until the water had run cold, that Dean finally shut the shower off and stepped out. He felt more refreshed now, his head clearer than before.

After carefully drying himself, Dean sat on the edge of the bathtub. He took fresh bandages from his duffel bag and slowly began to wind them around his legs and lower torso, taking care to make sure his burns were covered properly. It was awkward to keep the bandages from slipping, to get them tight enough that he was comfortable and by the time he was done, Dean's mood was beginning to sour again.

A neat charcoal coloured suit finished off his look as a reporter. Now all Dean needed was to get some answers on where the paintings were. He checked the protective circle around the paintings his father had made, reassuring himself that they were still secure before he left the house.

Climbing into the rusty, battered truck his father had stolen for them, Dean headed back towards Cedarville. He turned on the radio, flipping through channels as he tried to find some classic rock before a news report caught his attention.

"…**A spokesman for the Rapid City Police are calling the attack an act of terrorism. While no police officers were seriously injured, all surveillance equipment within the station itself was destroyed during the attack, leaving police with no clue, as to the identity of the man was that led the attack against them. Sources say the station was momentarily consumed within a bright white light, but so far, no one has been able to explain anything about what happened there last night…"**

"Jesus, Sammy…what the hell did you do?" Dean breathed, pulling over to the side of the road and reaching for his cellphone. He needed to call Sam. Needed to hear his brother's voice and know he was okay. First Elise, then Skye…Dean couldn't shake his fears that something could happen to his brother while he was out of Dean's sight. He wasn't there looking out for Sam and that was never going to sit well with Dean.

As Dean went to pull up his contact list, the phone began to ring. He hit the answer button, putting the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"_Dean, what's happened? Are you okay?"_

"Sammy?" To say he was surprised, would be the understatement of the year. The relief that flooded in moments later at hearing his brother's voice, had Dean leaning forward to rest his head against the steering wheel, questions tumbling from his lips rapid fire. "Sam, are you okay? Elise? Is Elise okay? Where the hell are you? Is my car okay?"

He winced at the last question. How the hell could he be worried about the Impala right now? Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't. Everything seemed to be going wrong right now, why not add his beloved car to that list? It was like Karma was out to get him for this hunt.

"_The car's fine, Dean. Elise is fine, she's with me. What's happened?"_

"What do you mean, what's happened?" Dean frowned, sitting back up again.

"_Dude, you're broadcasting all over the place. What's happened to have you so freaked out all of a sudden?"_

" I thought I told you to stay out of my head, Sam!" Dean snapped, suddenly wondering what Sam had been picking up on? He hated the idea that his brother knew about the fear prickling down Dean's back and knotting up his stomach.

"_Dean, I wasn't snooping, dude!" _

Dean could already picture Sam rolling his eyes in frustration now. His brother's voice was taking on a sharper edge as he spoke.

"_You came into my head while I was asleep. You came to me, man…it's not my fault the connection works both ways. Come on, Dean, it's okay for you to tap into my dreams, but I'm not allowed to sense when something's wrong with you?"_

"That's not what I meant, dude. Don't turn this back on me, dammit. I'm not used to it, okay Psychic Wonder? Cut me some fucking slack!" Dean snapped. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to the fact Sam could get into his dreams, his mind, without Dean knowing. It was even scarier for him to think it was working both ways.

"_Fine…I'm sorry."_

"You're sure you okay? What the hell did you do there, dude? The radio said the place was consumed in light or some shit. You messing with those powers of yours again?"

"_It's under control, Dean. I…I lost my temper, that's all." _

"Lost your temper? Sam, what the fuck happened in there? Are you hurt? Elise? Dammit, I should never have let you go alone. Everything's getting all fucked up and I'm out of the fucking loop here!" Dean snapped in frustration.

"_Dean….DEAN! Shut up and listen, will you? We're both fine_. _Now stop stalling, Dean. There's more going on than just you worrying about some radio report about me and Elise. What's wrong? Is it Dad? Has something happened?"_

"It's Skye, Sam. Something's happening with the baby…she…she might be losing the baby, Sammy." Dean's voice became quieter as he spoke, a more frightened tone appearing as Dean dropped his guard suddenly. Having Sam on the phone now, having that contact with his brother allowed Dean to cut the bullshit and be honest for a moment. Because if anyone knew Dean, it was Sam. It had always been that way and it was only growing stronger. "Dad's with her…at least, I think he is. He left here last night when we got the call."

"_So you're there alone? You're hunting alone?" The worry was clear in his voice. _

"Dude, I can handle a few paintings…" Dean was suddenly indignant at the tone of Sam's voice.

"_Really…so the fire was just a walk in the park huh? Cause I seem to recall being worried about you checking out on me, Dean!" _

"Sam…" Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. He didn't want to have this conversation right now.

"_I'm coming up there."_

"What? The hell you are! Sam, you just busted Elise out of custody. You're going to stay put, keep your head down and stay out of sight! Stop being such a dick! I'm fine! I can handle this on my own."

"_So you're broadcasting all that fear because your perfectly in control huh?"_

"Dude, seriously, stay the fuck out of my head. I don't need you up here holding my hand." Dean snapped, clutching the steering wheel with his free hand hard enough to send his knuckles white. It was a lie of course. Dean would like nothing better at this moment than to have Sam with him. Within reach and in his sight so that Dean could be sure the dork was safe.

"_Dean…."_

"Damn it, Sam, no! I'm not having you risking getting caught for me, okay? I need to know you're safe. I need to know Skye's--…" Dean stopped himself as he felt his carefully built walls crumbling further. He pulled his hand off the steering wheel and pinched the bridge of his nose. " I just need to get this done and come home. You stay put, you hear me? Keep in touch and look after Elise. I'll call you soon…"

Dean ended the call even as he heard Sam calling his name again. Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he gunned the engine on the truck again and pulled back out onto the road. He wouldn't be late for the interview if he hurried.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

"Dean!" Sam called one last time before the continuing dead air greeting him, had Sam putting his phone away with a huff of air, annoyance darkening his face. His brother could be a stubborn asshole sometimes and Sam felt helpless all of a sudden. It wasn't that he was worried about Dean finishing the hunt. Dean had taken on far worse before.

But Sam knew that Dean's head wasn't in the game now. Hadn't been since the fire…and now Skye was in trouble? The baby? How the hell was Dean supposed to keep his mind on the job now? Tipping his head back against the sofa, Sam found himself staring at the ceiling, frustration thrumming through his veins. Why couldn't anything ever be simple? Why couldn't they be happy?

Dean was already staring down eternity in Hell and now Skye might lose the baby? Sam wanted to scream. He wanted to demand answers from God as to why his family kept getting given a raw deal, when all they ever did was try to help people?

"You want to tell me what that was about? Or are you happy to just lie there bursting a blood vessel over it?"

Sam made a small bemused snort and lifted his head to see Elise looking up at him. Her hand was resting lightly on his chest , her body tucked in close.

Leaning forward slightly, Sam captured Elise's lips in a warm kiss that had his muscles slowly uncoiling as it really sank in that Elise was safe. He'd gotten it right and had saved her in time. His arms curled around her possessively, pulling Elise even closer still before he slide his hips over and lifted her up. Elise straddled his hips a moment later, watching him through her long lashes with a playful smirk, before she leaned in to kiss him.

"Ow, shit!" The move pulled on her shoulder and instantly the moment was lost as Elise bucked upright again with a hiss of pain.

"Oh, hey, you alright?" Sam grabbed Elise before she lost her balance, his huge hands wrapping right around each arm easily. His face was pinched with concern, one hand reaching up to gently examine the bandage on her shoulder. "Looks like everything's okay there. You need some painkillers, though? I should have something in my duffel that can help."

"Yeah…that'd be good. It's hurting like a bitch now, whole bloody arm's feeling stiff and tight. That's normal, though…isn't it?" Elise asked before she suddenly looked uneasy. "I mean…you've been shot a few times before?"

"It's fine." Sam assured her with a gentle smile. "No infection. I promise. But I think we'd both feel better sleeping in a bed next time."

"Are you getting all kinky on me, now?" Elise teased, placing one hand on her hip, careful not to move the arm on her injured side. "I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you, mate…"

Sam's gaze washed over Elise quietly for a moment before his smile began to fade slowly. He wanted to enjoy this moment, he really did. All he had thought about while he had been away, was being back with Elise and enjoying her company, being alone with her. But at what cost was he having this moment? Elise could have died…Sam could have gotten her killed because he had been too wrapped up in the dark, seductive whispering of his demonic blood to realise the danger in time. He had felt so untouchable and he had quickly been shown that the people around him, the people he cared for, weren't.

"Earth to Sam? What's going on in there?" Elise asked softly, resting the palm of her hand gently against his cheek.

"Nothing…everything's okay." Sam assured her quietly.

"Bullshit, Sam. This is me you're talking to. Now what is it? Dean? Has something happened?"

"Skye's having trouble with the baby." Sam admitted suddenly, knowing there was no way to sugar coat it. Elise wouldn't want him to anyway. She liked Sam to be direct with her. "Dean said Dad's with her…but we should be too. I…I should be with Dean. He's working that job alone now. If something happens to him…" Sam didn't want to finish that sentence. He was too aware of the risks. Always had been. That was why Sam hated the hunting life so much. Death was only ever two steps behind you, waiting for you to make a mistake. The fire in their motel room had been a sharp reminder of that and Sam never wanted to see his brother burned again, so still and quiet.

"Hey…listen to me." Elise gently held Sam by the chin so his focus was on her. "Call your Dad, find out what's happening with Skye and the baby, okay? I'm sure everything will be okay. There's no sense in panicking just yet. We'll find out what the story is…and then we'll sneak back and check on them."

"It's too dangerous…you could get caught again." Sam said worriedly, knowing he would never let them near Elise again.

"Yeah…and that's not going away anytime soon. What are we supposed to do? Sit on our hands here for the next few months? We could do that and I could still get caught in a year's time, Sam. Skye needs us. Your family needs us." Elise said firmly. "So call your Dad, find out what's happening….and in the meantime? I'm going to go outside and see if I can't find enough eggs in the chook shed to make us some breakfast." She leaned forward carefully and planted a soft kiss on the tip of Sam's nose, biting her lip afterwards as her shoulder protested.

"I thought I was the one supposed to be making breakfast for you? Payment for what happened?"

"You know? You're absolutely right." Elise tapped the tip of her finger against her bottom lip for a moment thoughtfully, before she slid off Sam's lap and settled onto the couch beside him. "You're on breakfast duty…I'm going to convalesce here while you pamper me…"

"Oh is that how it works, huh?" Sam grinned.

"Oh definitely…I could show you the rulebook, but it's my other pants. You know how it is…" Elise smiled sweetly at him.

Sam laughed and got to his feet, looking out through the living room windows. He could see that the cattle that had been apparently abandoned along with the farm itself, were looking healthy enough. Hopefully there would be some fresh eggs in the chicken house, although he'd definitely be checking them first. Who knew how long ago it had been since anyone had been in there to gather eggs?

"So you'll be okay here?" Sam turned back to Elise.

"Are you kidding me? I'm fine. Now bugger off and go get those eggs. Watch for any broody chooks." Elise grinned wickedly.

Sam was chuckling to himself again as he headed outside. As soon as he was gone, Elise sank back against the couch with a soft groan. Her shoulder was killing her, throbbing in time with her heartbeat like some metronome of torment. Closing her eyes, Elise wondered how Skye was. The girls had grown close over time and now when Skye had to be freaking out, Elise had managed to get busted by Homeland Security. There was no way she was letting that stop her being there for Skye, even if they had to sneak in to visit.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Rapid City, South Dakota.**

Officer Sam Cardeth was re-cataloguing files at his desk. Whatever had happened the night before --and he still wasn't convinced that those guys hadn't been into the Evidence Room and smoked some primo weed -- Cardeth had been left to clean up the freaking mess and that just soured his mood even further that morning.

The official explanation of how a prisoner managed to escape from the cells, was like something out of some cheesy Stephen King novel. Did they really expect him to believe that the guy walked in, single handed…and moved shit with his mind? Yeah…right…and he was going to be Paris fucking Hilton's new squeeze.

The figure was impeccably dressed as he walked up to the steps of the Third Precinct. He paused at the top and inspected his reflection in the glass doors for a moment.

Cardeth watched the guy from his seat at the front desk. Was he was for real? Preening and checking himself out in the glass? What a dick…

At that moment, as though he had almost heard Cardeth's thoughts, the guy looked up at him, intense blue eyes locking onto Cardeth and reminding him of an eagle watching it's prey before the front doors opened and the man walked into the foyer of the Precinct.

"Can I help you, buddy?" Cardeth called, noting the way the guy moved. Restrained, measured. Not an ounce of energy wasted in the slightest as he crossed the floor, his gaze sweeping around him as though absorbing every detail in the place.

"Peter Shepard, Australian Consulate."

Cardeth narrowed his eyes at the man's ID for a moment as it was shown. The guy's accent was nasal, almost abrasive. He sounded like he belonged on that damn Animal Planet channel wrestling crocodiles or something. "Okay…so what exactly can I do you, pal? I'm kinda busy here in case you didn't notice?"

"I'm here about Elise Rogers. I understand there was an…_incident _last night?"

"An incident?" Cardeth snorted. "Yeah, you could call it that, I guess. Look, pal, if you're here to collect that Rogers girl, she's gone. Busted out last night during that _incident _you heard about. Probably already crossed the statelines if you ask me. I'll make a full report on it later and send a copy to the Consulate, okay? That's the best I can do for you…"

Shepard looked around for a moment, before his blue gaze rested on the security cameras perched up in the corner of the room.

"Forget it, pal. Something shorted out the security cameras, wiped the tapes clean." Cardeth explained patiently before he lifted up the stack of papers he was sorting and bumped them gently on the desk to align them all before slipping them into a manila folder. "Look, I don't know what else to tell you, pal. Your girl's gone…we're looking into it. We'll be in touch, got it? Now if you don't mind?"

Shepard's gaze dropped back to Cardeth, watching him intently for a moment, before he gave the man a tight smile that didn't seem entirely right. "Of course. Sorry. I'll be in touch, thank you for your time."

He left the Precinct, pausing at the top of the stairs to slip a pair of sunglasses on and consider his next move. There had been nothing here, no clues, nothing to point him in the direction he needed to be. And then he saw it. One tiny clue that would have been missed by most people….but he wasn't most people. Crouching down, Shepard brushed his fingertips over a small splash of blood on the top step. Her blood. The trail that had seemed cold, was suddenly laid out before him and a small smile crossed Shepard's lips as he stood up and quickly jogged down the Precinct steps.

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxx**

**Cedarville, Upstate New York…**

Voicemail was created just to torment him. It was just that simple. Why the hell else would it be the only thing Dean got every time he tried to call Dad or Skye? It was some cosmic joke on him and somewhere, some higher power was laughing his ass off at the peptic ulcer Dean was worrying himself into.

There was no putting it off any longer. He'd been sat outside Powell's house for almost fifteen minutes now, thinking of what angle to play, what cover name to use. Overthinking everything because he wasn't able to get hold of anyone to find out what the hell was happening.

Part of Dean wanted to say the hell with all and just start driving to South Dakota. His number was up in six months, he was going to Hell….why should he be away from Skye and the baby if they needed him? Why was he playing the hero? The moment he even thought of it, he had the answer.

Everyone who had died, all those kids. They didn't deserve to die like that, scared, trying to escape from something they couldn't get away from. Dean thought about the parents trying to shield their kids from the flames before the smoke got the better of them….how that had to have felt. How helpless they must have felt.

The same helplessness he was feeling now, staring the barrel of eternity in Hell. Knowing that even if he was by Skye's side, there was nothing he could do, no way to protect his baby.

But he could stop these fires. He could stop anyone else having to die that way. It was something Dean could control for now. Opening the door to the truck, he stepped out, straightened his tie and walked up towards Powell's house. This house was nothing like the Baskell's home he had seen in Twin Lakes with Sam. It was neat, well maintained to the point of being anal as far as Dean was concerned. The flowers were colour co-ordinated in the flower beds. The rest of the garden was planted to perfectly blend heights, colours, styles; the lawn manicured like a putting green…it was a gardener's wet dream.

It gave Dean the creeps. Who the hell was that anal retentive over a bunch of plants and some lawn?

There a solid brass lion's head door knocker greeting Dean as he stepped up to the front door. He paused long enough to look for a doorbell, before he used the knocker, rapping it sharply. Stepping back again, it was only a minute or so later that a figure could be seen approaching through the frosted glass in the door.

Dean had a polite smile ready as the door swung open to show a woman in her late 50's. She had a pale, severe face, her dark brown hair cut into a bob that curled down to her jaw line. Her clothes, a white blouse and grey business skirt , were neatly pressed and for moment Dean wondered if she had taken another job after retirement from the orphanage.

"Can I help you?"

"Dean Tyler, I'm from the --…"

"Oh, of course. Please, come in. Your partner's already inside waiting.."

Dean blinked for a moment, caught off guard and confused as hell. Partner? Who the hell knew he was coming here? It dawned on Dean a mere second later, one eyebrow lifting in question as he maintained the polite smile that was now a little strained at the corners. "Come again?"

"Oh...I assumed you knew she was here. You are here from the Cedarville Voice, aren't you?" The woman narrowed her eyes at Dean suspiciously.

She. That nailed it for Dean and he was instantly back in the game, his smile back on full beam, any hint of hesitation evaporating in an instant. "Yeah, that's right. Dean Tyler for the Cedarville Voice. I got my wires a little crossed there… haven't had my second coffee for the day." His smile was smooth and innocent, instantly disarming the woman as she stepped back and ushered him in, holding her hand out.

"I'm Marsha Powell, Mr Tyler…please, come in."

Dean followed Powell through into what appeared to be a formal living room. The walls were covered in photos of children of all ages, smiling, laughing. One far wall seemed to be nothing but a showcase of commendations and awards from various government departments and agencies. It seemed Marsha Powell had worked with children for a lot longer than just her time as Administrator of the Cedarville Orphanage.

Once he had taken in his surroundings, instantly making mental notes and filing them away for later, his gaze locked onto the other occupant of the room, his eyes narrowing briefly as he mouthed _what the fuck are you doing here? _to Cassie behind Powell's back.

Cassie was all smiles as she greeted Dean. "Hey…I was starting to think you'd forgotten all about our interview this morning?"

"Car trouble." Dean replied without missing a beat, in the zone now and ready to play out his part. He shrugged his shoulders in a casual gesture. "Died on me on the way from the office. I nearly had to call a cab…you know how it is…"

"Could I interest you in a coffee, Mr Tyler? I made a pot fresh this morning." Marsha Powell offered politely, looking expectantly at Dean.

"Coffee? Uh, yeah…that'd be great. Thanks."

Powell nodded to the pair and left them alone for a moment as she headed for the kitchen. The instant she was gone from the room, Dean shot Cassie a icy glare.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Cassie hissed, trying not to raise her voice and draw Powell's attention. She leaned towards him, clearly annoyed. "My job, Dean! I'm the actual reporter here. Dean Tyler? Nice…I see you haven't lost your habit for picking rock star's names."

"Why mess with the classics?" Dean retorted in an angry whisper. He could do this, play her game and still get the answers he needed. All Dean was interested in right now, was where the other paintings were so that he could get the hell out of here and go home to his family. Powell was the way to get those answers, she was the one who was meant to own the rest of those freaky so called works of art and Dean damn well wasn't leaving until he had what he came for.

As Powell re-entered the room, Dean and Cassie sat up again, all smiles and looking as smooth as velvet. They gave a polite nod of thanks as they were handed a cup of coffee in what appeared to be rather expensive bone china mugs. Dean could hardly get his finger through the handle, forced to hold in in a way that wasn't at all comfortable for him. He kept expecting to drop the damn thing at any minute.

Cassie on the other hand was able to easily slide one of her slender fingers through the handle, giving him a smug smile that made Dean feel like she was superior to him because of it.

"So, exactly how can I help you today? I understand you've both come to talk to me about those horrible fires? I'm surprised I haven't seen more press, really." Powell said distastefully before she took a sip of her Earl Grey tea.

"Why's that?" Dean cut in, earning a sharp look from Cassie. Fuck her, he wasn't here to play as a team. He wanted his answers, he wanted those paintings. It was that simple and he wasn't about the let Cassie run the damn show just because she was the one with the credentials.

"Well I certainly haven't made my connection to those paintings or the awful circumstances surrounding them a secret." Powell explained simply, taking another sip of her tea.

"So what can you tell us about that fire that night? At the orphanage? It had to be hard seeing those paintings after all those kids died, huh?"

"Excuse me?" Powell demanded icily, narrowing her eyes at the man before her.

Dean's bluntness earned him a kick in the shins and he threw a quick glare at Cassie as she cut in, taking over the conversation with a polite smile. "Forgive my uh….partner, Mrs Powell. He's still a junior reporter, you know it is with green reporters. They tend to leave their tact at home." She looked pointedly at Dean, hoping he would catch the hint and back down. A woman like Powell would only get her back up if she was subjected to Dean's usual manners.

Junior reporter? Was she fucking serious? Dean was inwardly seething, even as he offered Powell a sheepish grin, lifting his shoulders in a small casual shrug that he was willing to give in apology. Whether or not she took it? He really didn't care.

"So what do you recall of that night, Mrs Powell? Reports said that there was a fault with the wiring?" Cassie pressed quietly.

"Fault?" Powell snorted softly in disgust. "The wiring in that building was positively prehistoric. I'd been asking the Board of Directors for years for them to fund a complete overhaul of the electrical wiring and heating systems throughout the entire facility. They were finally starting to refurbish the main buildings when that horrible fire broke out."

Dean watched the way Powell changed as she spoke, clearly disturbed by the memory she was sharing. He gave Cassie a quick glance, watching as she casually rested her small pocket recorder in her hand on her knee, aimed in the woman's direction. There was a hunger in Cassie's eyes like a hound on the scent of a fox….so that was they meant by newshound huh?

"We had no idea the children were trapped inside until it was too late. They must have doubled back during the evacuation…it was so chaotic." Powell's hand trembled suddenly, her china tea cup rattling quietly on it's saucer as she sat it down again. "There was screaming, such screaming…."

Dean felt the blood draining from his face, recalling a night when he had heard screams that would never leave him. A night he had felt the heat of the fire and smelt that horrible scorched flesh smell that had haunted him all his life.

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to bring up bad memories for you." Cassie didn't know who looked more shaken, Powell or Dean and that had her rattled. It was then that she realised he was wearing leather gloves. What was up with that? Dean wasn't a biker and he wasn't the sort of guy who wore driving gloves either…

"What…" Dean swallowed thickly, feeling the coffee turning sour in his stomach. "What about the paintings? You commissioned them to be painted. What happened to them after the fires?"

"I had them put in storage. I couldn't bear to look those beautiful little faces again after the fire. I wanted nothing more to do with them." Powell shuddered.

"You what?" Dean's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Nothing to do with them? You don't have them?"

"Have them? What possible reason would I have for keeping those paintings? No…they were reclaimed by the family of the artist. His mother specifically asked for them if I recall rightly? I had the entire collection sent to her. Such a tragedy really, first those children…then Sean committing suicide after the first fire. Simply dreadful."

"Yeah, terrible…" Dean nodded sympathetically, hiding the seething anger that was building inside him. That nice little old lady had led him and Sam on a wild fucking goose chase. He was going to kill her. Strangle her with one of those damn lace doily things she was so fond of.

Cassie could see it was time to go. They had what they needed. There was no story here for her, nothing she hadn't already covered before….and no paintings for Dean. It was dead end. "We've taken up enough of your time, Mrs Powell. Thank you…I'm sorry if we brought up bad memories for you."

"No, no…it's quite alright. Those children deserve to have their story told. I just wish it wasn't tainted by these new fires. It's all so sad. Please…allow me to walk you both out." Marsha Powell rose to her feet as Dean and Cassie stood. She followed the pair to the front door and gave them both a curt nod of thanks as she said her goodbyes and closed the door.

Dean was already striding towards the sidewalk, heading for his pickup truck. His jaw was set in anger, his whole body taut and ready to explode without the slightest need of provocation. If there was one thing he hated…it was being played for a fool. When that came from a sweet little old lady? It only pissed Dean off even more.

"Dean!"

His hand was already on the door of the truck before it registered that Cassie was calling his name.

"Dean! Will you just wait a minute? God, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"What do you want, Cassie? I've got somewhere I need to be."

"Baskell's house…I know. You really think she has the paintings?"

Dean turned and fixed Cassie with a look that said exactly what he was thinking. She felt the hair in the back of her neck stand up in the face of such anger. "Maybe you shouldn't go charging in there right now?"

"What, you'd rather wait for another fire? Another family to burn? No thanks…I'm taking care of this now. That little old lady is handing over those paintings or-…"

"Or what, Dean? Or you'll kill her? She's not a monster, Dean…she's a grey haired lady who's son killed himself over these fires." Cassie retorted, her hands on her hips as they argued beside the truck.

"You sound like Sam." Dean ground out, turning back towards the truck.

"Yeah? Well one of you at least has some brains then!"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dean rounded on Cassie furiously. There she went again, judging him, assuming to know what he was, who he was. The way she had done each time she had broken his heart.

"It means that you can't go charging in there, Dean and if you weren't so intent on tearing someone's head off this morning, you would see that!" Cassie held her ground, face to face with him. "What's with you today?"

"Nothing!" Dean snapped, knowing that answer wasn't likely to get him anywhere. Cassie wasn't backing down, her hands still on her hips, one eyebrow raised in challenge towards him. God, he had always found that sexy and infuriating at the same time in the past…and what the hell was he thinking, finding it sexy? "Thanks for your help in there…I'll see you around."

Opening the driver's door, Dean climbed in behind the wheel, looking over disbelief as Cassie climbed in on the passenger's side. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Right now? Probably keeping you out of jail on a murder charge. How about we go and get some coffee, some breakfast and just chill out?"

"No. Get out." Dean was holding the steering wheel with tight fists, his leather gloves squeaking slightly. He wanted to get back to the house and adjust his bandages. The damn things were coming loose and rubbing, which only helped to sour his mood.

"I'm not going anywhere." Cassie leaned back in her seat, folding her arms.

"Dammit, Cassie, I haven't got time for this."

"Then make time!" Cassie snapped. "Because I'm not leaving. It's that simple."

They sat in utter silence for a moment, both quietly stewing in their own thoughts before Dean finally huffed in frustration and started the engine. "Fine. Coffee…. you're paying…"

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

The diner was busier than the last one Dean had met Cassie at. Only this time Sam wasn't going to come bouncing in like some long legged retriever, excited about what he had found. This time? Dean was on his own with Cassie and the mood was awkward as he drank his coffee.

They'd hardly spoken to each other as they sat in the small corner booth, Dean with his coffee, Cassie picking at what looked like a half decent omelette with bacon and mushrooms.

"Are you sure you only want coffee? I'm paying. I would have thought you'd have jumped at the chance for a free breakfast?" A light teasing smile played across her lips for a moment before it shrivelled and died at the lack of response from Dean. Cassie sighed softly, putting down her fork and giving him a pleading look. "What's going on with you today, Dean? The gloves, your mood…you're not eating. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've just got some stuff to deal with, that's all…." Dean replied, looking up from coffee in front of him.

Over Cassie's shoulder, he could see a couple in the next booth. A young woman was holding a baby up on her shoulder, lost deep in conversation with her partner, the pair of them laughing and sharing jokes. But it was the baby that had Dean's attention. A little girl judging by the pink headband he could see on her head. The biggest set of brown eyes Dean had ever seen were watching him intently as the baby, not much older than Sammy would have been the night their mother died, jammed a tiny fist in her mouth, the sleeve of her jumpsuit damp with slobber.

The coffee he had been drinking turned to lead, a sharp ache building inside of Dean's chest as he watched the little girl. Her whole life was ahead of her, pink and perfect, not a care…and deep within Dean a flare of jealousy burst into life. It scorched through him like a wildfire.

Why was _his_ baby struggling? Why couldn't things have just worked out without a hitch like they did for thousands of others parents? What was so special about that couple compared to him and Skye? It wasn't fair! Dean was staring down a death sentence and now it seemed his baby was looking at one too.

Why? Because of him? Because Dean was a Winchester and death seemed to follow them around? Because Yellow Eyes was too much of a fucking coward to face Dean…preferring to go after his baby and the woman he loved instead? Fucking demons were always so damn underhanded.

"Earth to Dean? You hearing me at all?" Cassie waved a hand in front of his face, trying to catch his attention.

"Huh?" Dean snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Cassie, his eyes narrowing slightly in annoyance. "What?"

"I was asking if you were hearing a word I've said in the last few minutes? I was asking where your Dad is? Don't tell me he's hunting something again and left you here alone?"

"Something like that…"Dean shrugged, sounding more defensive than he had meant to. He didn't need to explain or justify anything to Cassie, even if she didn't meant anything by what she was saying. And he sure as hell wasn't telling her where his father really was. It was none of Cassie's business anyway. Not Skye…not the baby…none of it. Cassie wasn't part of his life and once this job was over, he would be gone again from hers.

"Have I done something?"

"What?" That caught Dean's attention again. Shit, how often was he spacing out to her? No wonder Cassie was looking at him that way. The same look he had seen on her face after he had found the balls to be honest with her about what he did for a living. That same look that was half pity, half concern that she was dealing with a lunatic. That look Dean hated with every fibre of his body.

"Have I done something wrong? Cause I get the impression you'd sooner be sitting here with anyone rather than me." Cassie pushed her plate away now, her appetite gone. " I mean, I get it. We didn't exactly part as friends, did we? Even though things were better last time…it's not like you'd be happy to see me again. I get that…."

"Cassie…."

"No, no it's okay, Dean. I guess I just wasn't expecting you to be quite like this…"

"Cassie, it's not about you." Dean sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and glancing over Cassie's shoulder again at the baby girl. She was still staring at him, her huge brown eyes big enough to drown in and he had to shake himself, pushing away thoughts of what his own baby would look like. His eyes? Skye's dark hair maybe? Who nose would it have? Would any of this even matter if Skye lost the baby?

"I didn't mean to imply it was, Dean." Cassie was a little frostier now. What? Did he think she was just waiting for him? That the moment she saw him again she was willing to fall for that charm of his? Fall back into the old familiar bad habits again so easily?

Standing up suddenly, Dean peeled his jacket off, then removed his tie, feeling like it was a noose around his neck. "Look, you're here about the paintings, right?'"

"Yeah…of course I am. But that does--.."

"I can show you three of them. Just wait here. I'll be right back…" Dean sighed tiredly, his shoulders twitching as though he had a itch he couldn't scratch….which was exactly what it was. The damn bandages around his lower body were coming loose and it had gotten to the point where he needed to do something to relief the rubbing. He dropped his jacket on the bench seat then headed for the men's room.

Cassie sat quietly, surprised by Dean's sudden change in tack. What the hell wasn't he telling her?

From inside the pocket of his jacket, Dean's phone began to ring. Cassie immediately recognised it as Dean's…only he had that taste in music for a ringtone. She hesitated for a moment, thinking that it was best to let the call just go through to voicemail…but then her curiosity got the better of her and Cassie reached over the table, retrieving the phone from inside Dean's pocket. The caller ID wasn't John or Sam's name…but a woman's.

"Hello?" Cassie answered the phone, her voice pleasant yet neutral.

"_Uh….hi…Who's this? Where's Dean?" _The voice sounded confused thatanyone else would answer his phone.

"Dean? Oh…he's uh…he's in the shower right now. Can I take a message for you? I'll get him to call you back as soon as he's out." Cassie kept her voice light and pleasant, completely innocent.

"_The shower? Who…who is this? What are you doing with Dean?" _

"Well, it's my room….Look, I'll tell him you called." Cassie ended the call, then turned off Dean's phone and slipped it back into the jacket again. So that was the problem…he had another girl? How important was this one? How long had Dean been with her? Or was she just the latest in a long list?

A waitress appeared, collecting Cassie's plate and the now cold cup of coffee that Dean had been drinking. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thanks…we'll be leaving." Cassie smiled politely at the girl as she handed her the money to cover the bill plus a decent tip. Dean was returning from the Men's room as she looked up. He still looked uncomfortable and pissy. That didn't bode well for the trip to wherever the hell the paintings were that Dean was offering to show her, but Cassie would deal. A story was a story after all…and she wanted to know what the hell Dean was hiding from her. Sure, Cassie had been the one to say there wasn't a chance for them… trying to make it easier on them both. But she was lying to herself if she tried to deny that Dean still had a hold on her. He was just that kind of a guy…

Dean slid his wallet out of his pocket as he reached the table, automatically heading to pay for the breakfast himself before Cassie's hand touched his wrist gently, stopping him.

"I've already paid, Dean…now how about those paintings, huh?"

Dean glanced at her hand on his wrist, fighting the urge to pull his arm away, feeling nervous at Cassie touching so close to his burns. He took a step back and grabbed his jacket from the bench seat, slipping it on again. "Alright then…let's get this over with."

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

The drive back to the farmhouse was a little less tense. Dean was still irritated by his bandages and the concern for Skye was eating him away inside, but there was little he could do until he heard from her. With that in mind, Dean figured he should cut Cassie a little slack. She hadn't really done anything to deserve his foul mood this morning. She was a freaking reporter, doing her job as much as Dean was doing his.

Maybe if they worked together? They could solve this faster. It wasn't the same as having Sam or Dad at his back, but it beat the hell out of being alone right now.

"So you've got three of the paintings?" Cassie looked over at Dean, finally breaking the silence between them.

"Yeah…got them locked away safely so they can't hurt anyone else."

"Well that's something, I guess." Cassie nodded quietly. "So what happens when you find the last three?"

" I take them back to the Orphanage and give them an old fashioned salt and burn. Turns out all these fires are happening because the spirits trapped in those paintings are pissed at being separated. They're just trying to find each other again…"

"Really? That's so sad…" Cassie said honestly. It seemed strange to think of these ghosts being only children when her only other real brush with the supernatural world was a haunted truck that had killed her father.

"Yeah…well, just make sure you write it up that way. None of that sensationalist crap, okay? These families? Those kids? They deserve better than some tabloid magazine making their deaths a freaking blurb between stories of Sasquatch sightings and mermaids giving birth to kids on beaches in Florida." Dean griped sourly.

"That's not the sort of thing I write for, Dean."

"Yeah, well, whatever. I'm just saying…" Dean shrugged. If Cassie wanted to be offended? That was her problem…

The house loomed into view and Dean was actually glad to see it. He needed to get his bandages changed before the itching drove him insane. The truck swung off the road with a brief cloud of dust as he hit the loose gravel and turned into the drive. Pulling up behind the house, Dean shut off the engine, pushed open his door and climbed out. "You coming?"

The house was undisturbed, the paintings still where Dean had left them within the protective circle. He peeled off his jacket again and threw it over a chair in the kitchen, walking through to the other room with Cassie following.

"You've been sleeping here? What happened to the motel rooms?" Cassie wrinkled her nose at the idea of Dean squatting in someone's abandoned home. It wasn't exactly safe.

"It's free and I'm not endangering anyone else…" Dean gave a half hearted shrug, not finding his sleeping arrangements any big deal really. He'd slept in the Impala so many times he'd never be able to even estimate the number. Not to mention bunking down in deserted cabins, empty houses…Dean didn't care as long as it was warm and dry.

His duffel bag and bed roll were on the far side of the room. Dean stripped off his gloves, biting down on the tip of a finger to help pull each one off in turn before he threw them on the bed roll.

Cassie gasped as she saw the bright pink skin that looked stretched and even melted in a few places. "Jesus, Dean…what happened to you?" She stepped forward and grabbed one hand to take a closer look.

Dean hissed in pain and snatched his hand away. "Owww! Hey! I got burnt. That fire in Fredrickstown at the Motel Nine? That was us…. One of these damn paintings tried to take me and Sammy out. We were lucky to get out of there alive….. Some people didn't."

"I saw the news report. That was you and Sam?" Cassie turned and looked at the paintings, realising she recognised the sad, tearful face of the little boy from the tv report. So they had been there. She moved a little closer, crouching down to get a better look.

"Yeah, we were there…and now I'm here, away from anyone else. It's safer that way. Don't cross that line…and don't touch it either. That's the only thing keeping them locked in there right now. I don't need another close call." Dean warned. He grabbed a clean t-shirt, boxers and jeans from his duffel. " I need a shower, be right back. Don't touch anything…especially those paintings. I mean it."

"I'm not an idiot, Dean." Cassie scowled.

"Just…. I'll be right back." Dean sighed, wondering if this was huge mistake? He walked to the bathroom, closing the door and hanging his clean clothes on the towel rack. Two showers in the same day? Only hours apart? God he hated these damn burns more and more with every passing minute. First he had scared the hell out of Sam and had Dad hitting the panic button and flying up…and then there had been Sam needing to help him take a leak…oh so much fun.

Now this. It took him time and effort to peel away the bandages. Skin peeled away, some areas weeping and cracking, others bleeding as the scabbed skin was removed with the gauze. Dean chewed on his bottom lip, feeling his eyes watering as he breathed through his nose. It was bearable…but only just. More dead skin was washed away as Dean stepped under the steaming shower spray. He felt disgusting…like he was shedding like a freaking shape shifter. But there was some relief to be found as he washed himself, blocking out the stinging as the water hit fresh and cracked skin. The water still tainted pink for a few minutes.

Once the hot water was gone, Dean climbed out and tentatively patted the wounds dry where he could before he took the burn cream from the first aid kit and began to smear it everywhere he could reach. He still felt disfigured, ugly, misshapen as he felt the texture of the skin on his lower body. It was healing…but not fast enough. Not for his liking anyway.

It was hard to reach everywhere Dean needed to apply the cream. He could only twist so far and after a few moments of trying to get the back of his legs and lower back, Dean turned a fraction too far and felt the skin tear on his thigh. It was like a knife had sliced up his leg, blood spilling as Dean jerked upright in pain and almost slid over onto his ass. One hand shot out to grab the towel rail and balance himself as pain blazed through him. "Fuck!"

"Dean?" Cassie's called through the door. "Dean, are you okay?"

"Just…give me a minute…I'll be right out." Dean answered, unable to keep the strain out of his voice. He grabbed his towel and pressed it to the tear in the skin, feeling tears well up in his eyes at the pain. "Son of a bitch…"

The bathroom door suddenly opened and Dean found himself naked, face to face with Cassie. He stood stock still for a moment, on display in all his glory before he snatched his shirt from the towel rail and covered himself up with a angry scowl. "You mind?"

"Oh my god…oh my god, Dean…your skin. " Cassie clapped a hand to her mouth in horror, her eyes the size of dinner plates as she finally saw the extent of damage he had suffered.

"Like I said…we were lucky to get out of there alive." Dean sighed, pulling the bloody towel away from his leg to see that the bleeding was slowing again. "Look, you mind closing that door? I'll be out in a minute, just…just go wait in the other room."

"Those burns…you can't have healed up like that already. It's not possible, Dean. You…you should be in a hospital. Those burns should have--…"

"Killed me?" Dean quirked an eyebrow at the comment, too damn sore and tired to care about how freaked Cassie had to be right now. He sighed, pitching the towel across the room and reaching for the first aid kit. Dean had seen in Sam's eyes how close he had come to dying again…it was too much for the kid and Dean would sooner never see that hollowness in his brother again. Plus now he had to deal with Skye seeing his burns when he went home and that wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

Dean felt ugly, disfigured, even though he knew his body was healing. It was a reminder that he wasn't completely human anymore. He felt tainted…and wondered if he had passed that taint on to his baby? Was that why the Demon wanted it? Why Skye was in danger of miscarrying?

"How? How can you be healing up so fast?" Cassie whispered, watching him with wary eyes now, even as she took a tentative step forward.

"Family secret." Dean smirked, taking a bandage and some gauze padding from the first aid kit. "There's a lot about me that you don't know, Cassie. Things have changed…I'm not the same guy you knew before…" He fumbled with the bandage, cursing as he almost dropped it and had to release the t-shirt that was covering him in order to save the bandage rolling across the room.

Cassie moved forward then, her decision made as she grabbed the bandage from Dean's hand, feeling an almost electric rush fill her as she brushed his fingers with her own. "Here…let me help."

"I've got it."

"Sure you have, hero. Now shut up and stand still. The more you move? The longer you'll be standing there naked." Cassie allowed a small half smile to curl her lips as she took charge. She could sense that Dean was uncomfortable with her proximity. It was weird, because he'd never been worried before about being naked around her. So why now? Was it because of the woman on the phone?

"Where's your Dad? Why are you dealing with this alone, Dean?" Cassie asked softly, hurting to see him this way. It wasn't right that he was alone again. Not when it was so obvious how much needed his brother and father. What had been so important that they would leave Dean alone to deal with these paintings while injured?

"I'm not a kid…I can finish this job alone. Dad's where he needs to be right now." Dean replied, trying not to think about how much wanted to be there too. How he would give anything right now to just be by Skye's side.

Winding the bandages around Dean's body, she was able to see up close and personal, just how bad the injuries were and it shook her to the core. Dean shouldn't have even been conscious, he belonged in a burns ward. The healing he had already managed was incredible and it terrified her to think of how he had achieved this. Was it some sort of magic? Not the card tricks kind…but something darker? After all, Dean was usually up to his neck in that sort of thing as far as Cassie knew. Who knew he had found out over the years?

But as the minutes passed and Cassie found herself in such close proximity to Dean, her defences were completely disarmed again despite her journalistic curiosity. His skin was warm to the touch and the familiar scent she had always remembered long after they had gone their separate ways, was wrapping itself around her senses. She overlooked the melted skin, the rough ridges and scars. All she saw now was the man she had loved…still loved.

Dean had his eyes closed, trying not to watch Cassie as she covered up the scarred, burnt skin he hated so much. Her hands were so soft on his skin, so familiar. Memories of those hands sliding over his perfect, smooth skin were etched into his mind and they rose up now unbidden as he felt her tending to him. Dean bit down on his bottom lip and opened his eyes, finding himself suddenly face to face with Cassie.

Her deep brown eyes were looking straight at him, wide and open, windows right through to the soul behind them. "Cassie…what--.."

The rest was lost as Cassie suddenly leaned in and kissed him deeply, her hands cupped against his cheeks, her tongue gently probing his mouth. For Cassie, it felt like she had finally found herself where she belonged, she finally found what had been missing all this time….

Dean placed his hands on Cassie's shoulders and gently pushed her away from him, backing up until he hit the wall behind him, seeing nothing but confusion on Cassie's eyes.

"Dean, wait."

"What the fuck was that?" Dean demanded, furious.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that."

"Damn straight." Dean snapped. He grabbed his jeans from the towel rail behind him and pulled them on, grunting in pain and holding up a hand as Cassie moved to help him. " I got it. Back the fuck off now, Cassie."

"Just let me help, Dean." Cassie pleaded.

"You've _helped _enough, thanks. I should have never brought you here. It was a mistake…I'm taking you home. I've got somewhere to be." Dean dragged his shirt over his head and headed for the door, his jaw twitching with anger. How could he have been so fucking stupid? He had let his loneliness, his stupid feelings for his past with Cassie, cloud his judgement.

"Dean, wait a minute!" Cassie followed him out of the bathroom. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you. I…I just thought maybe.."

"What? We had a chance? Cassie, you closed the door on that a long time ago. I've moved on."

"Moved on?" It was like a pool of icy water had suddenly settled in her stomach now. The voice on the phone…was that who he meant?

"You do know the meaning of the word, right? You being a journalist and all." Dean snarled. He snatched his jacket and gloves, pulling them on with a growl as his skin protested the abuse. Screw it. He was too pissed now to bother being gentle. Angry with himself, with Cassie… with the whole situation.

"I didn't know. You never said anything." Cassie said hollowly as she paused in the kitchen doorway. As Dean suddenly whipped around, Cassie found herself backing up, frightened.

"My life is none of your damn business, Cassie. It hasn't been since we broke up. So excuse me if I didn't feel like sharing with you. I didn't see the need to. Now get in the truck or you're going to be walking." Dean growled, before he spun on his heel and headed for the truck. The battered old vehicle started up without argument as Dean stabbed his foot on the gas pedal, finding a target for his frustration.

Cassie remained by the kitchen doorway for a moment, before she closed the door behind her and walked to the truck. Climbing into the cab, she didn't say a word to Dean. What could she say that wouldn't set him off again? Just looking at him, she could see the tension in his arms as he held the wheel. It had all seemed so simple in the moment back in the bathroom and now she could see it was anything but.

Dean couldn't even bring himself to look at Cassie. Not right now. Not when he was so ready to explode. He had been stupid enough to lower his guard, thinking she was friend, that he could trust her….only to find that she was hoping to find something that wasn't there anymore. Hadn't been for a long time. His days of taking an easy escape with the nearest available girl were over. Dean didn't want that anymore. Not when he finally had a home, a family.

It occurred to him that he should explain that to Cassie. But not yet. Dean needed to get his mind back on track. He needed to get those paintings and finish the job. That was paramount now. That was what mattered.

By the time he arrived at Cassie's motel room, the only words that had been exchanged, had been a terse, brief utterance of the address he had needed. Dean finally allowed himself to glance over towards Cassie as she climbed out of the cab, then turned to meet his gaze.

"Dean, I didn't mean for things to be like this between us. I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Dean gave a curt bob of his head. " Same here. Look after yourself, Cassie. I'll see you around sometime."

Cassie closed the door and stepped back as Dean reversed the truck back and drove away. She didn't know if she would ever see him again and it made her regret the way they had parted the last time they had been together.

There was no doubt anymore. It really was over.

**XxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Twin Lakes, Upstate New York.**

Dean looked at the suburban street before him, watching the kids riding their bikes, the elderly couple quietly weeding their garden beds…and he found himself wondering if he could have ever lived like this?

It used to terrify him to think of nine to five and weekends spent mowing the lawn. In so many ways, it still did. It bucked against everything Dean have ever known in his life. The cosy memories of his mom and a life that had once been ordinary were so faded that sometimes Dean couldn't even be sure if they were real or simply his imagination giving him what he wanted.

But now? With the months ticking down and the sudden realisation that any hopes he had of being a father were under threat of being stolen from him, it was hitting home more and more, just how much he wanted this. Maybe not the white picket fence and nine to five job. That still scared the crap out of him. But a steady address, somewhere to call home. A family, a legacy of who he was and what he had been fighting for all this time.

That was what Dean wanted. It had been worth going to Hell for…and it still was. Skye, Connor…Dean would never regret what he had done. The only thing he regretted, was if he had somehow harmed his baby with the demon blood inside him.

Reaching into his jacket, Dean pulled out his phone, needing to talk to someone. Anyone. If he couldn't reach Skye or Dad…maybe Sam would answer? Or Bobby? Dean just needed to hear a friendly voice in that moment.

"What the hell?" When had his phone been turned off? Dean never turned his phone off. Especially not when he needed to keep in contact. He switched it back on, drumming his fingers impatiently as he waited for it to start up and connect to its provider. Instantly, the phone beeped to alert him to waiting voicemail. He dialled the number and waited for the message to begin.

"_Dean? What the fuck are you playing at? Call me the minute you get this."_

Dean rolled his eyes. Shit, Dad must have tried calling only to find the phone turned off. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice muttered how his father had been guilty of that very same thing over the years. How many times had Dean called his father after he disappeared, only to receive nothing in return?

It wasn't time to be thinking that way. This wasn't about payback. This was about finding out about the baby. Dean hit speed dial and let it ring through to his father's number, bracing himself for what was coming.

"_Dean? Where the fuck have you been? Why was your phone off?" _

"I don't know, Dad. I must have hit the button when I put it in my pocket. How's Skye?"

"_Hit the button? You expect me to swallow that bullshit?"_

"What? Dad--..."

"_Where are you?"_

"Huh? I'm in Twin Lakes. Where the hell else would I be? I'm about to go and see Baskell's mother about those paintings. She was lying to us about Powell having them."

"_You're alone?" _

"'Course I'm alone. Dad, what's going on? What's with the third degree?" Dean had expected him to tear him a new one for the phone being off…but this was more than he had banked on and for the life of him, Dean had no idea what he had done wrong. "Where's Skye? Let me talk to her."

The call went quiet for a moment, although Dean was sure he could hear muffled voices on the other end before his father spoke again. _"Skye doesn't want to talk to you at the moment, Dean."_

"What? What do you mean? What the hell's going on, Dad? First you start in on me like the Spanish inquisition and now this? What the fuck am I supposed to have done?"

"_Don't take that tone with me, dammit. Skye tried calling you earlier, apparently. Now I don't know what was said, but she hasn't spoken to anyone since. So how about you tell me what the fuck the story is?"_

"Me? Dad, I haven't spoken to Skye today." Dean needed to speak to her now though, more than ever. Whatever had happened, he needed to know. "Dad, please…I need to talk to her."

There was another pause again, before finally, Dean heard the voice he had been seeking so badly. _"What is it, Dean?"_

"Hey, babe…it's good to hear your voice. Are you okay? How's the baby?"

"_I have to wait for some more tests, but…but everything seems okay." _

Dean leaned forward, closing his eyes as he rested his head on the steering wheel and swallowed down the fear he had been all but wrapped in since Skye's call the night before_. _His hands were trembling slightly as relief surged through him. But as quickly as that rushed in, it was washed away again as Dean caught the emotion in Skye's voice. "Skye? Hey, come on, talk to me. What is it?"

"_Where are you?" _

"I'm in Twin Lakes. I've almost got this job finished and then I'm coming home, babe."

"_Who are you with?" _Skye's voice had become frosty.

"No one, Skye. What the hell is this about?" Dean demanded, confused.

"_No one? You weren't some girl earlier? In her shower…in her room?"_

"What?" Dean sat up sharply then. "No!"

"_Then who answered your phone? Why would she say that, Dean? She said you were in the shower, that she would get you to call me back! Then your phone was turned off…you want to try again about where you were?"_

"Son of a bitch…." Dean growled softly, his stomach starting to knot up. "Skye--…"

"_I'm here, fighting to keep our baby alive and your in some other woman's room? What the hell, Dean? What? Did she offer you a shoulder to cry on?"_

"It wasn't like that!" Dean snapped. He instantly caught himself and took a moment to calm down. If his suspicions were right? He was going to kill Cassie. But right now, he had bigger problems. Right now he just wanted to turn the truck around, the hell with the paintings.

"_Then what was it like, Dean? I need you! I need you here. Connor needs you…and you're not here and some stranger is answering your phone!" _

"It won't happen again. I promise." Dean told her honestly, trying to diffuse the situation for now. There would be time to discuss this when he was face to face with her and had an idea of what had happened. His suspicions were already growing by the minute. "Skye, I swear, I'll be there soon. I swear. Please…please, babe. I just need you to stay calm. Okay? There's no other woman. Nothing is going on. It was just a mistake. One I'm going to have cleared up soon. Now I want you to just take it easy and look after our baby until I get there. Okay?" His heart was racing now. What if Skye wasn't willing to listen? "Skye?"

"_You promise? You'll be here soon?"_

"Have I ever let you down yet?" Dean quipped, then frowned as he thought about what had happened. "Forget I said that…"

He was rewarded with a broken little chuckle from Skye that had a tight smile breaking across his own lips. "Are we good?"

"_Not yet…but we will be when you get here. I love you, Dean."_

The call ended before Dean could say anything else and an ache was building up in Dean's chest now. He needed to get home. After he had killed Cassie. Pulling up the call log on his phone, Dean could see the time Skye had called him. While they were at the diner…Cassie had fucking lied through her teeth and even turned the phone off to cover her tracks. Killing was too damn quick. Something slow and pain seemed on order for this.

Dean slid his phone back into his pocket and climbed out of the truck. He straightened out his shirt, shrugged his leather jacket until it was sitting comfortably, then looked towards the house. It was show time.

**xxxxXXXXxxxxx**

"Oh. Agent Seger…I wasn't expecting to see you again." Mrs Baskell smiled politely at Dean as he stood in her doorway. She seemed frailer than before, a little more hunched over. Dean wasn't sure if that was an act, or maybe he just hadn't noticed before when he had spoken to her with Sam.

"Yeah, sorry to disturb you again, Mrs Baskell. But it seems there's a slight problem with the information you gave me and my partner earlier…"

"Oh, really? A problem? What problem?"

"You were lying. You have those other paintings, don't you?" Dean didn't return the polite smile he had received before. He saw something flicker behind her eyes and knew he had struck home.

"Perhaps you should come in." Mrs Baskell said quietly, stepping back and ushering Dean inside. She closed the door and slowly shuffled towards the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea, Agent Seger? I owe you an apology for what I said before."

"Sure…but coffee's more my style." Dean shrugged, following her through to the kitchen. It was pleasantly laid out with more of those creepy ass gingham ducks everywhere. Painted on cupboards, printed on curtains. There were spice racks and serviette holders and canisters with names like Flour, Coffee, Cookies and Nuts written on them.

It was the sort of kitchen they told you about in school when they read you stories of what Grandma's house was like. Dean had never had the chance to meet his grandparents. All he knew, was that they had died before he was born. But even so, he had a hard time imagining his grandmother having a kitchen like this. Martha Stewart's, maybe.

Just the thought of that had him shuddering. No doubt if Sam was with him, the lanky sasquatch would have felt right at home. Hell, for all Dean knew, his brother could have identified half the contents of this kitchen by scent alone. Sam always was a walking encyclopaedia of weird anyway.

Dean was used to Bobby's kitchen. The strong tang of coffee, the musty smell of books drifting in from the other rooms. A myriad of scents all mingling from the pantry where Bobby not only stocked food, but important components for spells and summoning rituals. That was home for Dean.

"Cream and sugar? I'm afraid I only have instant coffee. Not much call for it since I'm a tea drinker." Mrs Baskell called over her shoulder and she brewed tea for herself and made the coffee for Dean. She was fussing about with a practiced hand, knowing her way around her kitchen without hesitating or even bothering to look as she opened cupboards and took out what she needed.

"Just black thanks. " Dean sat down at the kitchen table, trying not to fidget as he glanced around. "So…you want to explain why you lied to me?"

"Oh, lie is such a harsh word, Agent. I have to admit, I certainly wasn't expecting to see you so soon. I thought perhaps there would be red tape. You know how things tend to work with the Government." Mrs Baskell, was still smiling warmly as she turned around and placed a mug of coffee before Dean. "Where is your partner?"

"Other duties…" Dean said offhandedly, wrapping his hands around the mug and taking a sip. It wasn't the world's best coffee, but he'd had far worse before. Diner coffee tended to prepare your taste buds for anything. "I'll meet up with him later. So if you knew we'd be back, why lie in the first place?"

"Well as I said, I was hoping it wouldn't be so soon. That perhaps I would have a chance to sell the other paintings before you caught onto what had been happening."

"So you've been selling them? Despite the fires?" Dean asked. So much for sweet little old lady. Wait until he told Sam about this one…

"Of course I have. Those paintings are Sean's legacy. His mark on the world. I had to ensure they were seen. That Sean wasn't forgotten." Mrs Baskell sounded so matter of fact about it all. To her mind, it was that simple. She was ensuring her son's name was kept circulating in the art world. But it all spoken with such a soft, warm voice. Disarming and kind.

Dean drained half his coffee before he smacked the cup down on the table, feeling a flash of satisfaction as it made Mrs Baskell jump slightly. "Forgotten? You're kidding right? Those paintings have been killing people! Families are dying because of these paintings and you're still selling them?"

"Agent Seger…." There was no fear in her voice. Just a quiet sadness.

"You knew." The coffee suddenly seemed to turn to lead in his stomach as Dean sat forward more, looking Mrs Baskell straight in the eye. "You knew what these paintings were doing, didn't you?"

The blue eyes that looked up to stare directly at Dean, were sharp and clear. Cunning even. "I knew. I've known since I sold the first painting after Sean's death. The first night the rest of them appeared sobbing in my room, begging to know where the other child had gone."

"But you didn't care." Dean stated flatly. It was all starting to make a twisted sort of sense. Her loyalty to her son was worth more than all those lives. "All you gave a damn about was his name." Dean blinked suddenly as Mrs Baskell seemed to shift out of focus for a moment. He shook his head, realising the room was starting to pitch and shift ever so slightly.

"Agent? Are you alright?"

Dean felt a hand cover his gently, the skin soft and dry like tissue paper. Everything was fuzzy, warm…what the hell? "I'm fine." He tried to pull his hand away and found his limbs felt leaden and unresponsive. "What….what did you…?"

"I'm so terribly sorry. I truly am." Mrs Baskell got up and stepped back, keeping clear of Dean as he lurched unsteadily to his feet. There was a bottle of pills in her hand now. "Sean had them for his insomnia. He had such terrible trouble sleeping after those children died. I had hoped his coming home would finally give him some peace. But after the fire, after he discovered that I had sold the painting to that family." Her hand fluttered up towards her throat, her voice shaking with emotion. "I never thought he would kill himself…oh my poor Sean…"

Dean was wavering dangerously, fighting the dizziness, the drowsiness with every cell in his body. He couldn't black out. Not now. Not here. He was alone. There was no back up, no Sam to come to his rescue…he had to stay awake. But as the floor came rushing up to meet him, Dean knew it was too late…

**xxxxXXXXXXXxxxxx**


	8. Facing The Coming Darkness

_A/N: This chapter would have been done a LOT sooner if the show didn't keep giving my muse panic attacks over the boys. But then, where's the fun in that, right? As always, BIG thanks to Tara aka LovinJackson for her tireless support and asskicking on this. Also Nana56 and Deb aka lovinandrew, for the threats of whips and other various tortures if I kept dragging my heels. LOL_

_I have a new vid up on my Youtube and Bamvid accounts for this verse. And lastly, thanks to every one who reviews. You guys really do keep me writing! _

_On with the show!! _

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxxxx**

**Pine Ridge, South Dakota. Several hours earlier….**

Skye's world had been completely turned upside down and now she felt like she was scrambling for purchase. Her fear about losing the baby had grown over the hours until Skye had been left completely numbed. How would she have ever explained it to Connor? How could she have faced Dean? It was irrational, worrying that somehow she should blame herself for this, but irrational or not, the fear was very real. Even after the initial scan in the ER that had assured her the baby was alive, that a heartbeat had been detected. Skye still found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then it had.

"_Listen to me, Skye. The baby will be okay. I know it will. I've seen this before. I've been through this before."_

Skye hadn't understood what John had meant by that. How he could be so damn sure that the baby would be just fine? But then he dropped the bombshell that Skye hadn't been expecting and it changed everything.

"_Skye…Mary had the same sort of dream when she was pregnant with Sam."_

The same dream. The same nightmarish visits from the demonic bastard while she was carrying Sam. Skye tried to reassure herself that the baby would be fine, that it had to be a good thing, right? Because Sam was a wonderful man who Skye loved and trusted. But voices whispered in the back of her mind too, reminding Skye of the power Sam had. What he was capable of. That the Yellow Eyed Demon had wanted Sam as his right hand man, leading his armies against the world. Was that what he wanted with her baby too? Had Dean's sacrifice paved the way for the Demon to try again? A new generation?

It terrified Skye. Would her baby have abilities? Would he be special like his uncle? If he was? How would they control him? Could they? God, there were so many questions that scared Skye and she knew she was getting ahead of herself. Until the doctors confirmed for her that she wasn't losing the baby, did she even have a right to worry about it's future?

More than anything, she wished Dean was with her. Even though she understood how important it was that he finished the job. Even though she had Bobby doing everything he could to keep Connor amused while John sat with her to make sure she wasn't alone….Skye wanted Dean by her side. She needed to see his green eyes, that damn smirk of his that always told her everything was going to be okay. They were running out of time. The deal was counting down with no answers yet of how to save him and Skye couldn't help but feel every minute that ticked by was one lost forever. Another lost chance to be with Dean and let him know how much she needed him still. How much he had impacted on her life.

Skye had tried sleeping earlier, managing a couple of hours of broken, restless sleep full of nightmares and horrible images that had her waking up in tears to find John sitting beside her, his eyes dark with concern. Now she was lying curled up on her side, flipping through channels on the hospital tv and wishing there was something on that would take her mind off things.

"So what do we do now?" Skye finally broke her silence, sitting up slowly with one hand placed over her belly.

"We wait for the doctor." John shrugged, glancing at his watch yet again. How fucking long did it take to get a Obstetrician out of bed when he was needed? Did the fact they hadn't rushed him mean it was too late to do anything to save the baby? Or was it because there was no need to rush, the baby would be fine? John felt like grabbing someone and shaking some answers out of them. His mood had soured rapidly as the pain started across his shoulders. His wings had been strapped down by Bobby shortly after John had arrived and now they had been locked in for hours. The ache was growing to the point where John was ready to take someone's head off for even looking at him the wrong way.

"I'm not talking about that." Skye murmured quietly. "I mean, what we do if this baby is fine? If it's like Sam?"

"Like Sam? What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, John. Mary had no idea what Sam would become. Neither did you and the fact Sam ended up who he is and not like Ava or Jake? Says a lot about the sort of parent you were. But I can't just ignore what we know now. This baby might be like Sam. One of the Special Children. How the hell do we cope with that? This isn't a Hollywood movie….this is my baby we're talking about. Dean's baby. He's already hated by the other hunters. So are you and Sam. What if they find out about the baby? What if some hunter like Gordon Walker thinks the way to save the world? Is to kill my baby? I don't want my child growing up marked, John." Skye didn't care what it would take. As terrified as she was of something happening, of the Yellow Eyed Demon trying to take the baby from her. She would do anything to protect her children. Both of them.

Connor deserved a brother or sister….Dean deserved to be a father and nothing and no one was taking that away from them. Ever.

"That's not going to happen, Skye." John said tiredly, scrubbing a hand over his face and noting that he needed a shave before his three day stubble became a full grown beard. He wished more than anything that he hadn't had to tell her about Mary's nightmares. But now that he knew, now they did truly understand what they had meant…that they had been a warning, John couldn't ignore them. Mary and Sam had deserved the chance that Skye and her baby now had. They could fight this. John would fight this. Azazel had done enough to his family already.

"Ms Anderson?"

Skye and John both looked up at the man as he entered the room. He was wearing an ID tag that identified him as an Obstetrician, an easy smile on his face as he extended a hand towards Skye. "I'm Doctor Sindow, I understand you've been waiting for me. If you'd like to come with me right now? We'll take you down to radiology and find out what's happening with your baby."

Skye immediately looked at John, her heart racing. What if it was bad news? Everything she had been worrying about flew out of her mind as Skye locked onto nothing but the thought of needing her baby to be okay. That was all that mattered.

"Do you want me there?" John asked, seeing the fear in Skye's eyes. This wasn't something she should face on her own.

"No…someone needs to be with Connor." Skye shook her head.

"Bobby's got him." John reminded her, surprised that she was balking at the idea of having someone there to support her right now. Sure, he wasn't Dean and John would give anything right now to be able to have his son there for her, but he was still willing to back her up on this and judging by the guarded look in her eyes? That was something Skye wasn't used to. "You're not alone anymore, Skye. You've got family now."

Skye nodded, feeling her throat closing up with emotion. After a moment, she found the words she wanted. "Yeah…company would be nice, actually. Thanks."

When Jason had disappeared, Skye had become accustomed to dealing with things alone. Sickeness, injuries, bad days, good days…they were all hers to deal with without any real support. Oh sure, she'd had a few friends she could call on in a pinch for babysitting Connor at short notice. Or who would come over for some drinks and a few laughs. But when the shit really hit the fan and Skye would find herself awake at three am, unable to sleep, eyes puffy from crying….that was when it would hit home, how hard it was to be without family. To have them just slam the door in your face and cut you off. Over what? The decision to marry a guy they didn't like? A decision to keep a baby they didn't agree with?

Even now, Skye wanted to be able to call her Mom and Dad. Wanted to hear her Dad telling her that everything would be okay…have her Mom hug her tightly while she cried. Have her sister there to listen to her and commiserate with. That was what family did, right? They stuck by you, no matter what. No matter if you threw them a curve ball.

Someone must have forgotten to give that memo to Skye's family.

Doctor Sindow stood back as Skye was helped into a wheelchair by an orderly. "Alright then. Now you just sit back and relax? And we'll know what's happening soon enough…"

"Doc, if it's okay? I'd like to wheel Skye down there." John asked, getting to his feet and gently rolling his shoulders to try and ease the burning pain rolling across them. His wings had been strapped down for so long, he was starting to lose feeling in them, beyond the pain that rippled through his back when he moved and got the blood flow going through them again. There was no doubt now, as soon as he was able to, John would need Bobby to help release his wings again.

"As long as Ms Anderson's happy with it I have no problem…."

Skye shook her head. "No, no, I'd like John there."

"Okay then…" Doctor Sindow said a little more chirpily than Skye or John had been expecting before he led the way out of the room, flipping through the ER notes he'd been given for Skye as they headed for Radiology.

Skye tilted her head back to give John a _what the fuck? _look at the Doctor's chipper attitude. It was un-nerving to have someone like that at this time of the morning. Was he always like that? Or was he just trying to put Skye at ease?

John placed one hand on Skye's shoulder and squeezed gently, signalling to her that she was going to be fine as they moved down the corridor.

Back in the room…Skye's cell phone began to ring. It continued ringing and ringing, hoping for someone to answer it, before it finally went to voicemail.

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx**

**Somewhere outside Rapid City, South Dakota.**

The door to the chicken run almost fell off in Sam's hand as he grabbed the door handle and opened it. It was a large wire pen suspended on a wooden frame with a small doorway that Sam had to stoop to enter. He still managed to collect his head on the way in, swearing softly under his breath before he straightened up and headed for the nesting boxes.

A half empty bag of feed had been left by the door and Sam had scooped some into a container, pouring the grain onto the ground as he walked through the pen. All around him, chickens were rushing to attack the grain hungrily and again, Sam wondered how long it had been since the owners of this farm had fled? Maybe later he would check on the cows he had seen the night before? It just seemed right since they were using the farm to hide out right now.

Sam glanced back at the house over his shoulder, thinking about Elise. Was she really alright? It had come so close the night before. Just a few inches between the wound she had…and death. Sam closed his eyes and pushed that thought away. It hadn't happened…he wasn't losing Elise. Reminding himself of that gave Sam the ability to breathe again.

A sharp sudden pain in his ankle had Sam's eyes snapping open. He jumped back a step and looked down, realising he'd been pecked by a chicken trying to get the food at his feet. He laughed and shook his head, feeling like an idiot for letting his mind wander like that. Dumping the rest of the feed on the ground, Sam continued to the nesting boxes and gathered up what eggs he could find, wary of getting his hands pecked. One by one he slid the eggs into the bottom of his shirt as he held it out in front of him, stopping when he had collected well over a dozen eggs. That had to be enough for a good plate of scrambled eggs, right? Sam's face pinched up thoughtfully for a moment before he gave a small shrug and gathered a few more. It couldn't hurt, especially because he would have to check that the eggs were alright before he used them.

Finally happy with his gathering efforts, Sam tipped toed his way back through the chickens still scratching and devouring the grain he had scattered. He closed the pen door behind him, only to have it fall off at last in his hand.

With a sigh and an eye roll, Sam let it drop to the ground. Fine, whatever. Maybe the chickens would be happier being free range? Sam was more worried about dropping his shirtful of eggs right now.

The walk back to the house gave him time to think and Sam decided to try and call his father after breakfast, find out how Skye was. If there was anything he could do to help? Maybe then, he could at least try and contact Dean and let his brother know something. The freaked out tone in Dean's voice earlier was still eating at Sam. His brother shouldn't be hunting alone right now. Not with his head caught up with Skye.

Entering the kitchen, Sam tried to carefully empty all the eggs, one by one, into the sink. Then he could fill it with water and check which ones floated. That was how it went, right? If they floated, they were bad? Damn it…Dean had usually been the cook when they were younger. Sam had gotten a black belt in ordering takeout over the years. But actual cooking wasn't his strong point. So much for college brains and demon powers…they were hardly going to help if he managed to kill Elise with bad eggs.

Sam turned the faucet on anyway once the sink was full of eggs and watched as it filled up, noting that only a few eggs actually floated to the surface. Okay, that had to make his theory right. He scooped out the offenders and put them to one side. Now that he had breakfast sorted out apart from the cooking, Sam scouted the cupboards for anything else they could use. He found a couple of containers of spices and a jar of instant coffee that was obviously kept for emergencies since it looked older than Sam was. He opened the lid and took a cautious sniff before deciding that it wasn't worth the risk. No coffee then.

The sound of water running had Sam pausing to listen. He followed the sound, finding Elise missing from the other room. Had she gone upstairs? Was she okay? Dammit, why the hell hadn't he checked on her when he came inside? Sam took the stars two at a time, heading towards the noise before it registered that he was hearing a shower running.

As the image of Elise in a shower…naked, warm water running over her body…caught up with him, Sam paused with his hand on the handle of the bathroom door. Maybe he should just go back downstairs? Maybe she needed this time alone?

Several more heartbeats passed with Sam standing there like an idiot, listening to the running water and envisioning Elise in the shower. His hand was still frozen on the door handle. Okay, now he was turning into Dean. He needed to stop being a freaking perv and head back downstairs, give Elise her privacy.

Except that another part of Sam had other ideas altogether as he turned the handle and entered the bathroom. The room was full of steam, the heat instantly sending a flush over Sam's skin as he slowly approached the figure he could see silhouetted in the glass of the shower stall. His heart was racing now, his mouth as dry as a desert. This was the sort of thing he had dreamt of while he had been away hunting…and now it was right in front of him. "E…Elise? You okay? In here…I meant in here."

_Oh that was smooth…could you sound more like a 12 year old peeping tom? _Sam berated himself silently, rolling his eyes at how he had to have sounded.

The glass door slid open and Elise's face appeared from the steam. "That all depends…how are you at washing backs? I can't quite seem to reach with my shoulder the way it is." She smiled innocently, but her eyes told a completely different story that had Sam's body instantly reacting.

"I could come in? I mean…if you really need help…" Sam was smirking now, his mind filled with images of their time in the pantry cupboard back at Bobby's, of the phone calls they had shared while he was gone. He stepped into the shower as Elise let out a squeak of surprise and moved back.

"Sam!! You're still dressed you bloody idiot!!" Elise laughed.

Sam shrugged and cupped his hands to her face, pulling Elise into a kiss that deepened within seconds. His tongue gently explored as he held Elise close, ignoring the water soaking into his clothes, plastering his hair to his face. Nothing existed outside the woman before him. Her hands reached up to sweep his wet hair back from his face, then slid along his neck and shoulders, down to the buttons on his shirt. It was peeled away soon after as Sam started to kiss along Elise's throat, nipping gently at the soft nape of her neck.

Elise purred with pure delight as her hands roamed down to Sam's jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding the wet denim down off his ass as she let her hands follow, slapping him hard on the butt before she giggled..

Sam gave out a startled yelp and scooted forward an few inches, trying to kick off his wet jeans and boxers in the process. "Hey!!"Elise giggled even harder then, before she leaned forward and captured a nipple with her tongue, a warmth spreading through her as she heard and felt the rumble of pleasure that echoed through Sam. Her hands travelled the length of his body, brushing over every scar that marred his skin, noting each and every one like it was a map to Sam's soul. Bullet wounds, stab wounds, claw marks, bite marks, they were all gently documented with a soft sweep of Elise's fingers as she continued to tease Sam with her tongue.

Sam had tensed up initially as he realised what Elise was doing, feeling self conscious about his scars, the virtual roadmap to a lifetime of pain etched over his skin. But it was the scars that lay beneath the skin that scared Sam more and he knew Elise had already seen them. She wasn't afraid of who he was, hadn't judged him from the time they had met…and Sam had never felt more at home. Not since Jess. It was as if he had finally been given a reprieve and was allowed to let someone in again. Sam was more than ready for that.

Elise's hand slipped down his stomach, lower and lower until she had encircled Sam with one hand, smiling at the rumble of pleasure from him as he leaned down to capture her lips with a kiss. He groaned into her mouth softly as her hand teased him gently.

It was only a few moments more of teasing, a warmth spreading through his body before Sam moved to lift Elise up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the wall behind them. Sam slid home inside of Elise with a sigh, allowing her to dictate the rhythm with her hips while he kissed up along her neck and jaw. All the time, being mindful of the wound on her shoulder, careful not to let it touch to wall, not wanting anything to ruin this moment for them both.

Elise started to tremble all over as she felt the climax building within her, her hips tightening around Sam as he held her tightly too him, thrusting faster as deeper as he was drawn towards the horizon himself. It all felt so good, so right…everything he had missed ever since Jess had died…and so much more. Because he was never letting Elise go, was never making the same mistakes again. His grip tightened possessively around her then, locking them both together as everything began to build inside, harder and faster, rushing towards the edge and beyond while Elise leaned in, nipping and kissing the soft skin under his neck.

When the end came, it was with a growl from Sam as he squeezed his eyes shut, lost in the sensations of Elise wrapped around him, feeling like he was falling into her. Elise was still shaking as she remained where she was, leaned in against his chest, safe and secure in Sam's arms as they both took a moment to try and collect themselves again….

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

Peter Shepard climbed out of his expensive and recently stolen sports car, lighting a cigarette as he took in the sight before him. The Seekers had brought him here, to this seemingly abandoned farm house in the middle of nowhere. Why here? Had they found her scent here? One drop of blood had been all that was needed to use the bitch to track them down. Elise Rogers was the Achilles heel for Sam Winchester.

Shepard dropped his cigarette and ground it out under his heel before he tipped his head back slightly and inhaled deeply. Ah yes, there it was. The scent of power…of pure unbridled ability. He had been told that this Winchester was powerful…but to actually smell it himself, to feel it. It was amazing. Intoxicating.

Shepard walked away from the sports car, already forgetting about it. It was nothing more than a means to an end anyway. A mode of transport that he could easily replace if he wanted to. First he needed to be sure the Seekers were right, that this was the right house. Then it would be time to make himself known.

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxx**

The rich aroma of scrambled eggs was filling the air in the kitchen and Sam found himself humming as he cooked breakfast. He had changed into a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans, feeling better than he had in a long time. The reason for that change in fortune was still upstairs and Sam was planning on surprising her with a huge plate of eggs when she finally appeared. It was normal…it was nice. Sam was finally allowing him to believe that this…this feeling right here, was something he could have every day.

It wasn't a law degree or a house full of kids surrounded by a white picket fence. Sam knew now that he would never have a truly normal life that he had often dreamed of. But maybe he wasn't cursed either.

There was a soft creak of the floorboards on the porch outside and instantly, Sam stopped humming, every sense going on alert. He had let his guard down this morning. Had been so wrapped up in the fact that no one knew where they were…that he had gotten Elise out of there…that he hadn't thought about securing the house. There was no salt in the house, only in the trunk of the Impala.

Sam could already hear both Dad and Dean yelling at him for being so stupid. He should have salted the doors and windows when he got there last night. Sam should have thought about the danger of demons finding them, that he was still a marked man for turning against the Yellow Eyed Demon's plans the way he did.

Moving with a grace and stealth that belied his lanky but muscular frame, Sam forgot all about the eggs and went to investigate the porch. He hesitated to put his hand on the screen door, knowing it's squeak as it opened would give away his position to whatever was out there…if there actually was anything?

_Elise… _Sam opened his mind, feeling the familiar headache threatening behind his eyes for a moment before it died away.

_Sam? _

_Stay upstairs and don't make a noise until I call you, okay?_

_Sam, what is it? _

Sam could feel her fear through the connection and he hated himself for being the one to cause it. _I don't know. It might be nothing. Just stay up there, okay? Everything's going to be fine. _

There was another creak and this time, Sam knew it was made by someone walking on the porch. He slid his gun from the back of his jeans, thankful to Dean for drumming that back into him about how important it was to be ready for anything, at any time.

Pushing the screen door open, Sam kept to the wall as he headed towards their mystery visitor, spying a well dressed man standing near the corner of the porch with his back to him. "Don't move."

The man complied instantly. "Can I at least turn around, mate? It's kind of hard to talk with my back to you."

The accent wasn't what Sam had expected. The guy sounded like Elise. "Alright. But slowly. Who the hell are you?"

"Peter Shepard. Australian Consulate. I've got some ID here if you want to see it?"

"Yeah, just no sudden moves." Sam warned, his aim steady on the guy.

Shepard carefully extracted his ID from inside his jacket and flipped it open before he held it up to Sam. " I'm looking for Elise Rogers?"

"Australian Consulate?" Sam frowned, puzzled, noting that the ID looked legit at least. How the hell could they have known to come here? Something still didn't feel right. There was no way they could have tracked them here. "Look, dude. I don't know who told you that, but I've never heard that name before."

"Really?" Shepard ran a hand through his short cropped blonde hair, looking exasperated. "Shit…that's just fucking great then, isn't it? I drive all the bloody way here and you've never heard of her…"

"Sorry man…" Sam shrugged, lowering his gun slightly, but not all the way. He was still watching the guy carefully.

"Oh hey, not your fault, mate. You're just trying to stop me from tearing her open while you watch…" Shepard's voice shifted and changed into something more crisp and low, pure menace dripping as the accent vanished. "…Sam Winchester." A low whistle left his lips.

Sam brought his gun back up, pulling the trigger as his eyes widened and the shot punched through Shepard without him even flinching. Damn it, how could he have been so stupid? He knew something had been off, but he hadn't picked the guy for a demon.

Sam could see them now. The figures huddled around Shepard. It was as though some sort of stealth setting had been dropped the moment the demon whistled. Milling and whining around Shepard's feet like a pack of hounds. But these weren't hellhounds. These demons were something else.

There was five of them. Their skin a muted charcoal black, their eyes yellow, ears and noses pointed and stretched at the ends. Completely submissive to the man they were huddled around, licking his hands and making strange high pitched noises before they turned collectively towards Sam and launched at him.

Sam went down hard, buried underneath the demons' bodies as they collided with him. His arms in their mouths, blood running down his forearms as they're needle-like teeth sank down to the bone. Sam's mind flickered back to the dog attack in Frederickstown. He'd thought Baxter was bad? That was nothing to this. A roar of pain left his lips as the demons shook him like a rag doll, then pinned him again.

Sam looked up to see Shepard looming over him, smiling. "Relax, Sam…I haven't even started yet."

The last thing Sam saw, was a boot rushing towards his face before all he knew was blinding pain, then darkness.

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Pine Ridge, South Dakota.**

Skye had to keep reminding herself to breathe. Lying here inside the radiology department of the Pine Ridge Hospital, everything seemed so quiet, so alien. The warmth and homeliness of Bobby's was all Skye wanted right now. To just be home….at least the closest thing to home she had felt in a long, long time. Surrounded by people she cared for and trusted.

John was there with her, sat uncomfortably in a chair, holding her hand still, trying to keep Skye calm as he watched the monitor in front of them. It was his grandchild on the screen. A child that John had never thought he would ever live to see born. And there was still no guarantee here. No matter what he had told Skye before. Because John didn't know if he was right. If he had any right to assume that what had happened to Mary, was what was happening here. It terrified him to think that in a twisted way, he hoped he was right…because then the baby _would _be safe. This was something he could deal with.

"Please…just tell me everything's okay?" Skye whispered, looking towards Doctor Sindow.

"Just a moment, please. Just one more moment and I'll answer all your questions." Sindow promised, his gaze never leaving the screen as he typed in various commands and notes on the small keyboard in front of him. His hands moved fast, with obvious skill before he finally stood up again and grabbed a tube of lubricant from a small container attached to the ultrasound machine. "Alright, then, let's have a look. This is going to be cold I'm afraid."

"It's fine.." Skye managed, her voice shaking, on the verge of tears.

"Hey…hey, look at me." John commanded softly, drawing Skye's attention away from the screen, the doctor, everything for a moment. "Just look at me. Look right here. Okay? I'm right here with you. You're not alone and everything is going to be okay."

"You don't know that." Skye could feel her hands trembling, her heart aching as she wished it was Dean here with her. Every fear she had been fighting in the last few hours was rushing back to smother her and Skye felt like she couldn't breathe anymore.

"I'm telling you here and now. It's going to be okay." John's voice was soft, but full of authority. The hunter, the Marine coming to the surface and taking charge of the situation and fighting to keep Skye calm.

Doctor Sindow waited for a moment, studying the screen intently for a moment while he waited for the right time to speak. Finally he saw his chance as he watched Skye trying to rein in her emotions, the fear so clearly evident in her eyes. "I have a heartbeat here. It's strong and regular. The baby is moving well…in fact, it's pretty upset with me having to chase it around right now."

Skye's gaze instantly locked on Doctor Sindow as time seemed to grind to a halt for a moment. "Really? You can really see the baby moving?" She had been told only a few hours ago that the baby was still alive, but there had been bleeding since then and every minute that had ticked past without concrete answers had pushed Skye towards believing the worst again. Now it almost impossible to take in. "Does that…does that mean--?"

"It means that whatever happened before? Was just a false alarm. The baby's vitals are all sound and I can see nothing to indicate what might have triggered the bleeding before." Doctor Sindow turned the monitor around so that Skye and John could both see the screen.

Tears filled Skye's eyes, spilling down her cheeks quietly as she watched the tiny form on the screen kicking and wriggling, turning away from the ultrasound scanner as best it could. There were tiny fingers to be seen, little feet drawing up, then kicking out again…everything so perfect. So real. So alive. The heart clearly beating within the tiny chest.

Skye felt her hand being squeezed and look over to see John smiling at her, his eyes glistening with tears that she knew he would never shed before her.

"See? Nothing to worry about." John assured her, looking back at the screen and making a solemn vow to do everything and anything for that tiny life before him. "Doc, when can we take Skye home? I have a grandson to consider and my son will be coming soon from a business trip. I'd rather he was able to be at home with Skye than visiting some hospital."

Skye lifted an eyebrow at John calling Connor his grandson, feeling her heart clench a little inside. It felt so right to know that someone cared for her son that way. That John felt so strongly about a little boy who wasn't blood. Sure, he had shown it time and time again, but to hear it spoken so simply like that. It made Skye realise how lucky she was. A chance meeting in a hospital had given Skye a family at last, however far from normal they would seem to others with demon blood, black wings and a hunter's lifestyle…but what was normal anyway?

"Well, normally I'd suggest she stay for another twenty fours for observation, but the baby is looking fine and as long as the rest of her tests come back fine? I'll allow Skye to go home as long as she has total bed rest for the next few days, then takes it easy after that."

John nodded with a grin. "Don't worry, Doc. We'll make sure she stays put."

"How about we get you back to your room for now? You can rest up until the other tests come back." Doctor Sindow said to Skye, offering her a hand to carefully sit up before he handed her some paper towel to clean off the lubricant from her stomach.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

"I'm going to go find Bobby and Connor, you need anything?" John asked, looking forward to getting out of the hospital and taking in some fresh air. The last few hours had been hell on all of them and right now, John needed to get away and have a moment to himself to reset his defences again, feeling his emotional walls cracking under all the strain. He needed to be strong for Skye, but he'd been just as scared as anyone about losing the baby.

"No, I'm good. And for once I can say that and mean it." Skye gave John a shaky smile, still coming to terms with the fact she wasn't losing the baby. Her hand was sat over her belly protectively, as though she could keep it from harm that way.

"I'll be right back…" John assured her as he slipped away, letting the door close behind him.

Skye blew out a huff of air that made her fringe lift, before she looked around the room, already finding herself bored and antsy. She wanted to go home now. If there was no reason to stay? Then they could keep their hospital. Skye wanted out of there, in her own bed, with the familiar sounds of Bobby's around her. Where she could wear Dean's shirts and read books to Connor. Watch TV with him, curled up on Bobby's couch. Sitting around here was simply going to drive her nuts with the waiting.

Thinking of Dean, Skye opened the drawer beside her bed, finding her cell phone inside and switching it on. After a moment, it alerted her to a waiting voicemail and Skye dialled the number, her heart racing just that little bit faster.

"_Skye…hey. I…uhh…I suck at using voicemail." _

"Hey baby…" Skye whispered, closing her eyes as she heard Dean's voice. It felt so good to hear his voice, even if it sounded nervous.

"_Look… I really need to hear your voice, okay? I need to know you're okay, that the baby is okay. Call me when you get this? I'll…I'll be there soon. " _

The message ended and Skye was almost tempted to hit the button to replay it again, just to hear his voice. But there was no sense in that. Dean had left a message to call him. That was what Skye needed to do. Then she really could be sure he was okay and she could give him the news that he needed to hear.

It only took a moment to hit the speed dial on her cell phone, before Skye waited anxiously to hear his voice again.

"_Hello?" _

Skye's face immediately creased into a frown. What the hell? That was a woman's voice. Skye pulled the phone away from her ear for a moment, thinking she must have dialled the wrong number. But she had used her speed dial, so how the hell could that be wrong? "Uh….hi…Who's this? Where's Dean?"

"_Dean? Oh…he's uh…he's in the shower right now. Can I take a message for you? I'll get him to call you back as soon as he's out." _

"The shower?" Skye felt like her stomach was trying to climb out her throat, the taste of bile starting to hit her tongue. No…no this had to be a mistake. Dean in the shower while some strange girl was in the room? Sure, Skye had heard hundreds of stories about Dean's way with women, she had see his roving eye from time to time. But he had never been anything but faithful to her. "Who…who is this? What are you doing with Dean?"

"_Well, it's my room….Look, I'll tell him you called." _

"What? No, wait!" The call went dead in Skye's ear a moment later. She looked at the phone, stunned. Her room? Dean? In some girl's room…in her fucking shower??? The bile taste became stronger and Skye stumbled to her feet out of the bed, rushing for the private bathroom she had in the room. She barely made it there before emptying her stomach. Her heart was pounding in her chest, everything hot and flushed as Skye tried to make sense of the angry thoughts boiling through her veins. The cell phone was still clutched in one hand as Skye tried to redial the number…only to get Dean's voicemail.

"Son of a bitch!" Skye growled, throwing the phone hard and watching it shatter against the far wall of the bathroom before she slid to her knees on the cold tile floor, tears flooding her eyes. How could he do this to her?

"Skye?" John's voice came from the other room before she heard Bobby and Connor.

"Hey, how about you sit in the bed there, son? Your Poppy's just gonna go check on your Mom, okay?"

"Mommy, you 'kay?"

"I'm fine, baby…" Skye managed, unable to hide the crack in her voice. The bathroom door opened further to reveal John's concerned face. "What's happened? Is it the ba--…" His sentence stopped cold as he took in the remains of the shattered phone across the room. "Skye?"

"I'm fine."

"Fine huh?" John looked over his shoulder to Bobby, signalling that things were anything but fine without needing to say a word. To his credit, Bobby nodded and picked Connor up and sat him on the edge of the bed.

"You wanna watch some TV? I'll let you have the remote?" Bobby lifted an eyebrow at Connor, awaiting his answer as he kept his face devoid of any concern right now. Whatever was happening with Skye, John would deal with it. Bobby had to keep Connor distracted. He was rewarded a moment later as the little boy's face went from pensive, to wide eyes smiles.

"I play wif the 'mote?"

"Sure can. See if you can find us some NASCAR huh?" Bobby winked at the little boy, waiting until he was distracted, flicking through TV channels, before he looked over towards the bathroom again.

John was already closing the door behind him, folding his arms across his chest. "You feel like talking yet?"

"Nothing to talk about, John. I told you already. I'm fine." Skye's voice was calm, yet cool.

"I can see that." John remarked casually. "So…what? You dropped your phone by accident? Thought you'd see if it could bounce? What?"

"Leave me alone, John." Skye sounded tired then, refusing to meet his gaze, merely watching the floor before her.

"Sorry. Can't do that. Now either you start talking or I'm hitting the call button and getting a nurse in here. What's happened?" John let his voice get a little harder.

"Ask your son." Skye finally ground out. "Now can I get some time alone, please? Take Bobby and go get a coffee or something. I just want some time alone with Connor."

John could see from Skye's demeanour, that there was no negotiating on that. She knew what she wanted. End of story. "Sure. Just get the nurse to come find us if you need us, okay?" There was no reply as John left the bathroom. He signalled to Bobby to follow him as he crossed the room, heading for the hallway outside.

By the time Bobby got out into the hallway, he could see John was on his cell phone.

"Dean? What the fuck are you playing at? Call me the minute you get this." John barked, leaving a voicemail for his son who apparently wasn't answering his phone now. Whatever the hell was going on? John was going to get the bottom of it. He regretted leaving Dean on his own now. But dammit, Dean was an adult. A well trained hunter. He shouldn't have to check on him and he sure as hell shouldn't have to be making calls like this to him.

"What the hell's going on?" Bobby demanded, just knowing he was going to get a goddamn stomach ulcer at this rate. Nothing was ever easy when it concerned Winchesters.

"I wish I knew, Bobby…" John admitted darkly, rolling his shoulders again and grimacing in pain.

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxx**

**Somewhere outside Rapid City, South Dakota.**

As Sam clawed his way back to consciousness, he wished he could remain in sweet oblivion. A throbbing headache had settled across his forehead and as Sam tried to open his eyes, he realised that his vision was blurry in his left eye. He lifted his head, only to discover that he couldn't sit up. Both arms were lashed down to the legs of the table he was now lying on. His legs trying to kick out but failing thanks to the rope holding them down too.

"Nice to have you back with us, Sam. I'm not exactly the most patient man…and well, we've got so much to talk about.."

Sam lifted his head and turned to see Shepard sitting in an armchair on his right, a cigarette nestled loosely between two fingers, his legs crossed. A casual, almost content smile on his face.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want?"

"You think I'm going to tell you my name, Sam? There's power in a name. How about we just stick to Shepard for now? He was such a nice fellow. Very polite, very precise with what he liked and disliked. Seems a shame really to burn him up, but then, it's not like I honestly give a damn about him either. Now you, on the other hand? I care about a great deal."

"Oh yeah?" Sam ground out, fighting against his restraints, twisting his wrists and ankles in hope of loosening something. "Why's that?"

"Well I'm trying to work out why you would throw away everything that was offered to you? You were supposed to be a leader, Sam. One of the chosen. The elite among the chosen, no less. And yet you turned your back on it…turned on your own kind. For what? A brother who'll soon be in Hell anyway?" Shepard sniffed and studied his nails before regarding Sam with a coolly curious look.

"I'm not one of your kind." Sam spat back at him.

"No? You sure about that, Sam? Are you really willing to lie there and tell me you're not a monster? That you haven't crossed that line? Why don't you think about that while I bring Elise down here? I'm sure she would love to hear all this…"

"You leave Elise out of this. She's nothing to do with any of this." Sam snarled, straining against the ropes as he fixed Shepard with a murderous look. "You touch her and I'll tear you apart."

"Is that so? I'd like to see that, Sam. I really would. But you're not going anywhere. I've made sure of that. There's a devil's trap beneath you…designed exactly for your kind. Azazel's children. Of course, for it to have worked properly, there must be blood added to the sigils as they are painted…but you were already so obliging while you were unconscious. I had more than enough for the task.…" Shepard smiled.

Sam struggled against the ropes restraining him, feeling them bite into his skin, watching blood drip from his arms where the Seeker's teeth had sank in deeply. The wounds were closing, but not enough to stem the slow, constant drip of scarlet. It splashed across the devil's trap, feeding it and strengthening it.

Shepard watched Sam for a moment, his face calm and devoid of any expression before he whistled again. The Seekers rushed into the room, whinging and gibbering like excited puppies until they were silenced by Shepard raising his hand. "Find the girl…"

The pack was about to rush to obey, when another curt hand signal held them in place. Shepard leaned forward and looked directly at the largest Seeker. "Don't harm her…bring her to me."

Shepard sat back in his chair then, knitting his fingers before him in an apex that he pulled back to lean against his chin, watching as Sam fought futilely against the ropes still. "You're only going to make them tighter, Sam. Sit back and relax. I'm sure Elise will be with us shortly…"

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

The wardrobe smelt musty and damp, with an underlying smell that had Elise wondering if a mouse had died in there sometime recently. The first screams from Sam had driven Elise in here to hide, even though a part of her wanted to go to him. But what good would that have done? She wasn't a hunter. Elise would have only gotten herself caught or hurt again…or something. Jesus, she hated being the helpless female. The type Elise always found herself yelling at in the movies for being stupid and not fighting back.

Looking around her in the thin light that was peeking through the venetian doors, Elise saw a couple of wire coat hangers hanging above her. It was better than nothing.

Reaching up and trying not to make too much noise, Elise pulled one down and began to unwind it before she bent the wire out, twisting it around her hand with one sharp end poking out. It might not do much, but it gave Elise a sense that she was armed at least.

A strange sound filtered through from the hallway…almost like there was a pack of gibbons rushing towards her, whooping and chattering. What the hell was it? Sheer terror gripped Elise, her heart ready to explode out of her chest as she held her breath, trying not to think about how badly she was shaking right now. As suddenly as the strange sounds had started, they stopped. All Elise could hear was the drumming of her heart in her ears. Her lungs began to burn with the need to release the breath she was holding, but what if that alerted whatever was out there? Was there anything out there? Maybe she'd manage to hide from them and they had missed her?

Another minute passed and Elise had to finally draw another breath, squeezing the wire wrapped in her hand, trembling still as she finally decided to risk a look. Reaching out ever so slowly, her hand touched the doorhandle, before Elise drew back., suddenly afraid to expose herself to whatever was out there.

The door was torn open without warning, splintering and shattering as it hit the far wall, the now open space of the doorway filled with terrifying creatures that were howling and reaching for Elise.

Reacting on sheer survival instinct, Elise lashed out at the nearest Seeker, stabbing at it's horrid yellow eyes with the coat hanger. There was a wet pop and ichor ran over her hand as Elise screamed. The Seeker began to shriek as well, a high pitched wounded sound filling the air as it backed away, clutching it's face.

The Seekers rushed at Elise then, mindful of their orders not to harm her. One of them grabbed her hand with the wire, slamming it against the doorway of the closet, disarming her. But being unarmed didn't mean that Elise was letting them take her without a fight. She kicked and screamed, her feet slamming into the head of one Seeker. Her free arm catching another before she was completely overwhelmed. One long, slender and chillingly cold hand locked around Elise's throat as she was driven to the floor at last.

The pressure choked any hope of breathing. Elise found herself staring into the most horrible face she had ever seen. Charcoal coloured except for the pale yellow eyes that watched her with a hunger within. Her feet were drumming on the floor, her hands clawing and beating against the mass of bodies above her, trying to break their hold as the lack of air began to sap her strength more and more.

The Seeker leaned in towards Elise as her vision dimmed, her eyes fluttering shut as they rolled back in her head. It could sense the fight had left her, releasing the pressure before her heart began to slow. A long, slow breathe was drawn in, before the Seeker nodded to it's companions and they picked Elise's limp form up from the floor, heading for their Master downstairs.

**xxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

Sam could hear their approach before he could see them, but as he lifted his head off the table again, the muscles in his neck screaming in protest, he caught sight of a limp form being bought into the room. "Elise?"

The lack of response had Sam surging against the ropes, rage exploding through him. "You son of bitch! What have they done? You said they wouldn't hurt her! Elise!!"

Elise had been dropped at Shepard's feet, the Seekers backing away respectfully, cowering and whining still. The one Elise had stabbed remained at the back of the pack, allowing one of it's comrades to lick at the wounded eye with a long, purple tongue that made Sam's stomach roll. Those filthy things had been touching Elise and Sam would watch every damn one of them scream and bleed for that.

Shepard checked Elise's pulse before he dragged her over to the couch, lying her out across it. He crouched down beside her, well aware that Sam was watching his every move. "Well I can see why you would want to have her with you, Sam. She's a beautiful woman."

"Get away from her." Sam spat, straining against his bonds. The wounds on his arms tearing and splitting again under the pressure, fresh blood spilling and raining down on the floor in steady trickles now.

"Sam, Sam, Sam…you're going to bleed out if you're not careful." Shepard sighed, sounding like a parent tired of teaching this lesson to his child.

"Like you'd care."

"Well, you're right on that. But I'm sure Elise would if you left her alone." Shepard reached over and gently smoothed her hair back, staring at her face for a long moment before he looked over his shoulder towards Sam. "She might not find my company as pleasant."

"Just let her go. Please…" Sam tried a different tack now, slumping back against the table. The bleeding was taking a toll on him, making him weaker. How had they gone from such a simple, fun morning…to this?

"It's too late for that, Sam. You know that. You were the one that brought her into this." Shepard ran his hand over Elise's hair again, then rested it on her cheek, watching her with a quiet, thoughtful expression. His thumb gently slid back and forth, his blue eyes almost shining with curiosity as she shifted slightly at his touch.

"You've got me. Whatever it is you want? You don't need Elise for it. Just let her go and I'll do whatever you want."

Shepard laughed then, removing his hand at last as Elise stirred again. Her eyes flickered open, looking around the room for a moment, unfocussed and confused before she took in the face staring at her. With a sharp, frightened gasp, Elise recoiled from Shepard, trying to press herself against the far corner of the couch. She caught sight of Sam sprawled over the table, his blood dripping from his arms to pool on the floor beneath him.

"Oh shit…Sam?" Elise began to rise from the couch, stunned by the sight before her.

"Get up and I snap your neck. It's that simple." Shepard spoke sharply. "Now sit down and keep your mouth shut. You're simply here to watch, that's all. Think of this as Show and Tell…"

Elise complied quietly, her heart in her throat as the man's blue eyes seemed to cut right through her. She didn't know what was happening, why this man wanted them? Was he even a man judging by those things he had with him?

Shepard walked over to Sam, smiling coldly as he saw the younger man tense up in expectation of what was coming. "Relax, Sam. I'm not going to hurt you. You're doing my job for me with every struggle. I just want to talk."

"Talk?" Sam couldn't his the surprise and confusion in his voice. "What? What about?"

"You. Why you think you are better than the rest of us? What makes you so special? Why I had to be hired to kill you? Because believe me, I'm not normally sent after humans. You come apart too easily…too quickly. No, you stepped on some rather large toes, I'm afraid and I want to know why?" Shepard shrugged suddenly. "Consider it one of the perks of my job, getting to know your victim."

"Fuck you." Sam spat quietly.

Shepard struck out like a viper, his hand gripping Sam's forearm like iron. His index finger dug into one of the many bite wounds Sam was carrying, tearing skin as he pushed in deep. "I'd watch your tongue in front of the lady, Sam."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body tensing up as pain flared through his arm. White hot and seeking as every nerve ending seeming to come to life, his back arching up off the table as Shepard dug deeper still. Tendons and muscle being pressed and torn like a scalpel was slicing beneath the skin. "Don't…don't!"

The pain ended as quickly as it had begun, Shepard pulling his hand away with a wet, sucking sound before he wiped his bloody finger on Sam's shirt with a look of almost distaste. "So tell me, Sam…"

"Tell…tell you what?" Sam looked up at Shepard, sweat sliding down his face, trembling from the pain that was still flickering through his body like a candle flame now.

"Why you feel superior? Why you turned your back on your destiny?"

"It..wasn't…my destiny." Sam ground out. He wasn't like Ava or Jake. The others. Embracing what the Yellow Eyed Demon had offered them. Sam didn't want any part of it. All he wanted, was to kill the Demon that had killed his mother, killed Jessica, his father and was now going to be responsible for Dean going to Hell too. His whole life had been screwed over by the Demon…

"You sound so sure of that, Sam." Shepard leaned in closer to him, speaking softly into Sam's ear. "But we both know your real side…the side you revealed back in that barn when you crushed a twelve year old's heart like it was nothing. That's who you are, Sam. You can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth. You're a killer. A monster…"

"No…" Sam felt tears sting his eyes as he recalled Tyler Morgan. She'd been such a sweet kid. Full of life, full of innocence. Had she been awake when he killed her? Had the demon let her know what was coming? Sam knew what it was like to be possessed, to have no control over your body and to desperately want someone to save you. But when those yellow eyes had been laughing at him and Dean had been lying dead in his arms, torn open and bathed in blood. None of that had mattered. Sam had crushed her heart without a second thought for the little girl he was killing. For the line he was crossing in that moment. He had willingly fallen into the darkness and let it drown him.

"Yes…and you've corrupted everyone you love. So tell me…how are you not a monster, Sam? How are you nothing like me?" Shepard asked softly, relishing the pain he was seeing in Sam's eyes.

Before this boy died, Shepard would destroy him. He would break him and make him beg, because that was how he liked them to die. On their knees, a shattered shadow of themselves.

**XxxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

**Pine Ridge Hospital, South Dakota**

There was only so much hospital coffee a man could drink, before he started to feel like he would vibrate a tooth loose from all the nervous energy he was carrying. John was fighting the urge to drum his fingers on the table before him. He had started to before, only to have Bobby bitch at him about it like an old woman. The grizzled old hunter and the half demon trying to ignore the painful throb of his hidden, strapped down wings. There was a buddy movie in there somewhere…one of those stupid damn movies Dean had always liked watching while Sammy had been busy trying to do his homework.

Dean. What the hell was the boy doing? Why wasn't he answering his phone? The irony of it being John now waiting and wondering over unanswered phonecalls wasn't lost on him. But John had never meant to hurt his boys, had never meant to hurt Dean by leaving his son to hunt alone. He'd been trying to keep them safe from Azazel.

Fat lot of good that had done. John couldn't help but blame himself for how this had all turned out. Both his boys had demon blood in them now. It wasn't just Sam carrying the demon taint. Both his boys were something more than human now…and as much as it hurt John to know that, he also knew it had kept them both alive too.

So why wasn't Dean answering his damn phone?

"You want another one? Or are we gonna stop dancing around the damn issue and head back to check on Skye?" Bobby grumbled, waving his empty Styrofoam cup near John's face to draw his attention.

"You got a better way to handle this, Singer? By all means, take point." John growled, fixing Bobby with a dark glare.

"Don't you go getting all surly on me, you stubborn son of a bitch. I ain't the damn enemy and you know it. You don't like getting a taste of your own damn medicine, that's your problem. I'm going back before you bite my head off again…" Bobby pushed his chair back and got up, crushing the foam cup in his hand before he dropped it in a trash can on the way towards the exit from the cafeteria.

Bobby was half way up the hall when John fell into step beside him.

"I didn't bite your head off."

"Really?" Bobby drawled, casting a sideways glance towards his friend as they walked. "No point in getting fired up til you know the boy's story, John."

"I know that, dammit." John snapped.

Bobby watched his friend carefully, knowing he was pushing things. "I'm just saying, John…it's been a long night for all of us. Don't go off half cocked…Dean'll be just fine."

John didn't say a word in reply, the muscle in his jaw ticking in anger as he walked. Of course Dean would be fine. The kid was smart, well trained. It wasn't like John had reason to worry about him.

So why the hell wasn't he answering his damn phone now?

They reached Skye's room and found her curled up on the bed, Connor asleep beside her as she watched tv. The moment they entered the room, Skye had tensed up, her eyes becoming guarded.

"John here was getting all antsy…thought it best we come check on you." Bobby jerked a thumb in John's direction as he shrugged slightly.

"Yeah cause Mother Theresa here wasn't concerned at all…" John sniped with a smirk that brought a smile to Skye's face after a moment. It was a signal of truce that both John and Bobby welcomed as they entered the room properly. Bobby took a seat in one of the damn uncomfortable hospital chairs while John took the end of the bed, arching his back slightly.

"You should go and stretch them, John." Skye told him quietly. "It looks painful."

"I'm fine." John replied before he saw the look in Skye's eyes. She knew Dean well and where he had learnt the party line from. "Alright, alright…I'll stretch them soon, okay? How are you doing?"

"I still want to kill him, if that's what you're asking."

"Take a number…" John quipped back, meeting Skye's gaze levelly. He wasn't going to back away from the subject. If Dean really had done something to upset Skye, he would deal with it. But first, they needed to actually hear from the kid. "Have you heard anything from the doctor?"

"Nothing yet…but a nurse came by a few minutes ago and said it shouldn't be much longer hopefully." Skye couldn't wait to get out of here. This whole place had them all on edge and she wanted Connor back at Bobby's where her son could relax and play and feel at home again.

The quiet trill of John's cell phone silenced any further conversation. He dug around in his jacket for it, finding Dean's name on the caller ID. It was a switch was flipped inside John, his anger instantly rising as he got up off the bed and headed for the bathroom to try and let Connor sleep. "Dean? Where the fuck have you been? Why was your phone off?"

"_I don't know, Dad. I must have hit the button when I put it in my pocket. How's Skye?"_

He didn't know? Did Dean seriously expect John to believe that pile of horse shit? The boy never turned off his damn phone. Not at a time like this and he sure as shit wouldn't allow it to be turned off by accident. "Hit the button? You expect me to swallow that bullshit?"

"_What? Dad--..."_

John wasn't looking to hear excuses. He simply wanted answers right now. Like why Skye had reacted so badly earlier. "Where are you?"

"_Huh? I'm in Twin Lakes. Where the hell else would I be? I'm about to go and see Baskell's mother about those paintings. She was lying to us about Powell having them."_

Baskell's mother? Damn, John wished now that he had gone to see the old lady himself instead of letting the boys handle it. He didn't know all the details of this hunt now and while John trusted Dean to deal with it. The unknown factors were eating at him. The lack of control he had now. "You're alone?"

"'_Course I'm alone. Dad, what's going on? What's with the third degree?" _

That's what John wanted to know too. What had happened to have Skye so angry? The last John had known when he had left Dean, his son had been consumed with worry about Skye and the baby. But there was something nagging at John now…and it was in the form of Cassie. She had been sniffing around. Had she tried something?

"_Where's Skye? Let me talk to her."_

John pulled the phone from his ear, pressing it to his chest to muffle it as he went to the bathroom door and spoke to Skye. "He wants to speak to you."

"Good for him. I'm not interested." Skye spat darkly.

"Skye…"

"I mean it, John. I can't even think straight after that last call."

John frowned, feeling his frustration rising again as he continued to remain out of the loop. He lifted the phone to his ear again. "Skye doesn't want to talk to you at the moment, Dean."

"_What? What do you mean? What the hell's going on, Dad? First you start in on me like the Spanish inquisition and now this? What the fuck am I supposed to have done?"_

Okay, that was it. John's patience was at an end and his temper flared instantly as he barked down the phone again at his son. "Don't take that tone with me, dammit. Skye tried calling you earlier, apparently. Now I don't know what was said, but she hasn't spoken to anyone since. So how about you tell me what the fuck the story is?"

"_Me? Dad, I haven't spoken to Skye today. Dad, please…I need to talk to her."_

It was the desperate, confused sound of Dean's voice that cut through the soldier in John and spoke directly to the father underneath. Whatever was happening here, John knew he needed to step back and let Dean try and sort it out. This wasn't his fight right now. Holding the phone out before him, John left the bathroom and approached Skye. "He's waiting, Skye."

"John--"

"No. You need to talk this out. Get it sorted." John's voice was soft but commanding. He wasn't going to let them screw this up. Not with everything that had happened lately. He had faith in his son and right now, whether she was willing to admit it or not? Skye needed Dean.

Skye took the phone, scowling at John. She didn't like her hand being forced this way. Not when she was so angry. Not when the one person she had relied on all this time, had let her down and Skye didn't even know why? How he could do something like that? Was she willing to hear the answer? "What is it, Dean?"

"_Hey, babe…it's good to hear your voice. Are you okay? How's the baby?" _

A few short sentences was all it took to start to unravel Skye. The sound of Dean's voice so pleased to have her on the phone, the concern she could hear in his words. It cut to the core and tears began to fill her eyes as she found the voice to speak. "I have to wait for some more tests, but…but everything seems okay." _With our baby, _Skye wanted to add, but if she did, any control she had left would be lost.. It just didn't make any sense that Dean would throw away the family he wanted for another woman. She didn't want to think it was possible that another man she had opened her heart up to, would hurt her again.

"_Skye? Hey, come on, talk to me. What is it?"_

"Where are you?" Skye asked suddenly, forcing herself to do this. To demand the answers she was scared of asking. She was owed that much.

"_I'm in Twin Lakes. I've almost got this job finished and then I'm coming home, babe."_

"Who are you with?" Her voice had become frosty now at the thought of Dean being with some strange woman. Seeking comfort in someone else's arms while Skye had been going out of her mind over whether or not she would lose their baby.

"_No one, Skye. What the hell is this about?" Dean demanded, confused._

"No one? You weren't with some girl earlier? In her shower…in her room?"

"_What? No!"_

"Then who answered your phone? Why would she say that, Dean? She said you were in the shower, that she would get you to call me back! Then your phone was turned off…you want to try again about where you were?" Skye demanded, aware of the fact that beside her, Connor was awake now, watching with wide, frightened eyes at his mother's anger. All the fear, the anger, the outright helplessness of the last few hours was boiling to a head and spilling over now that it had a target to aim at. If Skye could have gotten her hands on whatever bitch she had spoken to before? The woman would have regretted every setting eyes on Dean Winchester. Skye wasn't doing this. She wasn't letting some stranger walk into her life and turn it upside down. Break her heart…break Connor's heart. That was the worst part. There was a little boy listening who thought the world of Dean and Skye had trusted that he would never have that betrayed. Not like his own father had done.

"_Son of a bitch…." Dean growled softly. "Skye--…"_

"I'm here, fighting to keep our baby alive and you're in some other woman's room? What the hell, Dean? What? Did she offer you a shoulder to cry on?" Skye spat, shaking now with anger, an ache setting up in her chest at the very thought.

"_It wasn't like that!"_

"Then what was it like, Dean? I need you! I need you here. Connor needs you…and you're not here and some stranger is answering your phone!" Skye watched as Connor got up quietly and went over to John, hugging his legs and looking for comfort. It damn near broke her heart to realise she was scaring her little boy so soon again after coming to the hospital in a rush of blood and pain that had to have been terrifying for Connor to witness. Tears split down her face now, the ache in her chest becoming stronger as she fought to hold herself together.

"_It won't happen again. I promise." _

There was an honesty in those words, in Dean's voice itself that reached out to Skye, bringing more tears to her eyes. Because she wanted to believe so very badly. Needed to believe. Dean had been the one thing in her life other than Connor that had made sense in a long, long time. "Really?"

"_Skye, I swear, I'll be there soon. I swear. Please…please, babe. I just need you to stay calm. Okay? There's no other woman. Nothing is going on. It was just a mistake. One I'm going to have cleared up soon. Now I want you to just take it easy and look after our baby until I get there. Okay?" _

The words began to filter through slowly, smoothing away the jagged edges of pain and accusation. Heartfelt assurances that Skye needed to hear, simple words like _our baby _that sank in and told her she had been right to love this man…that she needed to trust him. He wasn't Jason. He wasn't throwing her and the baby away again. History wasn't repeating itself.

"_Skye?"_

Swiping at the tears still running down her face, Skye swallowed the lump in her throat and found her voice at last, even though it was hesitant at first. "You promise? You'll be here soon?"

"_Have I ever let you down yet?" Dean quipped, before a pause came over the phone. "Forget I said that…" _

Skye couldn't help the broken chuckle that escaped her then. That was the Dean she knew. The man she loved. Whatever had happened, Skye would know more when she saw him again and right now, that was all that mattered to her.

"_Are we good?"_

"Not yet…" Skye couldn't absolve Dean completely without knowing what had happened, how some woman had his phone. She trusted Dean when he said that nothing had happened, but it still left too many questions that had no answers yet. "…But we will be when you get here. I love you, Dean."

Closing the phone before he could say anything, Skye let the call end. She didn't need to hear Dean telling her he loved her. She needed to see him with her own eyes and look into those green pools of his as he told her the truth. Then Skye would know if he was being honest with her.

"Mommy 'kay?" Connor asked quietly, still clinging to John's legs.

"Yeah, baby, I'm okay. Come here.." Skye opened her arms and hugged Connor tightly as the little boy rushed over her. She kept him close, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm sorry I scared you. Everything's okay."

"It's 'kay, Mommy." Connor pulled back and pressed a kiss on Skye's cheek. He didn't understand what had happened to make his Mommy so angry on the phone, but whatever it was, it seemed to be over now.

"Well?" Bobby raised an eyebrow expectantly. "What's the damn story with that boy?"

"You've been hanging around Missouri too long, Bobby." John shook his head, a smile playing across his lips.

"I ain't gossiping, dammit….I'm just asking out of concern." Bobby gave John an insulted look that had both the hunter and Skye laughing. He scowled at the pair, grabbing the remote for the TV and flipping through channels in an effort to try and ignore the two damn laughing hyenas he was sharing the room with.

"Ms Anderson?" Doctor Sindow appeared in the doorway, knocking ever so lightly before he entered. "I've finally received the results of the tests."

Skye was instantly sobered, her heart pounding again as she tried not to look as worried as she felt. Ultrasounds were one thing, but what if the tests showed that there was something wrong. Something that could still harm the baby?

"Well? What's the verdict?" John asked, stepping forward until he was beside Skye, offering support with his presence.

"Well the blood work has come back just fine. Although I'm going to suggest a diet for you to supplement the baby better cause it's definitely taking a lot out of you. But as far as I can tell? There's nothing at all to be worried about. Bleeding can happen sometimes without there being any serious effect to the baby."

"So…I can go home?" Skye slid her arms around Connor and let him sit on what little lap she had with her growing belly.

"I'm willing to discharge you, yes. On the strict instructions that you have complete bed rest for the next few days and I'll be contacting your doctor about checking up on you. But yes, you can go home. I'll have the nurse at the front desk get the paperwork ready."

Bobby pushed his cap back off his head and scratched at his hairline. "Bout damn time…this place was starting to get on my nerves…" He glanced over at Skye, winking to her. He had no idea how they had dodged a bullet here, but the moment they got home, he was going to make sure that there was no way that Yellow Eyed son of a bitch could get inside his house again. Dream or not.

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxxxxx**

**Twin Lakes, Upstate New York (some time later) **

"…_You've corrupted everyone you love. So tell me…how are you not a monster, Sam? How are you nothing like me?"_

"Don't…don't you l-listen…S'mmy." Dean murmured, the words soft and muffled by the fact his lips were pressed down against the concrete floor he was lying on. His eyes flickered for a moment, slivers of green flashing in the half light before they slid closed again. The dream had shifted now. Ended. Sam was gone.

Another flutter of eyelashes and the slivers of green opened again, unfocussed and confused for a moment before Dean blinked and forced his eyes to open properly. There was a sticky wetness dribbling down the right side of his face, the taste of blood in his mouth…which was dry and furry feeling. A groan slid from his parched lips as Dean tried to lift his head from the floor. It was a bad idea, the top of his skull feeling like it wanted to slide free and hit the floor without the rest of him.

One arm was pinned beneath him, the other tucked in behind him as Dean took in his surroundings and realised he was laying at the base of a set of stairs. Half sprawled over the last two steps and the concrete floor at the bottom of them. Judging by the angle? It was how he had finally come to rest after being pushed from the top.

That explained why his head felt like it was ready to shatter if he moved, why there wasn't a part of him not currently aching. If Dean never saw another little old lady again in his life, what was left of it anyway, he'd die happy.

His phone…where was his phone? Everything was so fuzzy and scattered in his mind right now. Dean didn't know if it was the drugs he'd been fed that had made him dream of Sam, or if he had connected to his brother while unconscious and what he had seen was real? If Sam was in trouble, Dean needed to call Dad…needed to call someone…

The faint smell of smoke caught Dean's attention and he fought to raise his head again, panic flaring up within at that smell that meant nothing but pain and death to Dean.

Everything swam within his vision as Dean got his head up off the floor long enough to see tendrils of smoke snaking down the stairs slowly. He pulled his arm around from behind him and tried to push himself upright, intent on getting out of there, getting up the stairs.

But it was like he rushing through a tunnel suddenly, everything growing darker as a tremble crept up Dean's arm before it buckled under him. He hit the floor again, his eyes fluttering closed again as consciousness slipped away while all around Dean, the smoke was growing.

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxxx**

_AN#2: Yes, I'm evil with the cliff hanger endings.... next chapter soon, folks! Muahahahahahahaha!!_


	9. The Monster Within

_A/N: First of all? A HUGE apology for everyone who has been following this story. I never meant for it to take so long to get an update out there for you all. Feel free to throw tomatoes, eggs...no watermelons though...please?? Oh alright...maybe a rock melon or two. :P_

_I'm on the home stretch at last!! And I have to give a humongous thank you to Tara aka LovinJackson and Deb for thier support and whip cracking when my muse got stubborn on me. There's nothing like that instant feedback to make you feel better about what your writing. If you haven't checked out any of Tara's fics? Then go!! Get to it!! She's kickass! The same applies to Deb aka lovinandrew for the uninitiated. _

_And a big shout out to all the wonderful new friends I have made through this fic! You guys all rock!! Sabbathverse will also be updated by the weekend for those following that. _

_Otherwise, sit back, enjoy the ride and I'll see you soon when I update again....a LOT sooner this time. lol_

**xxxxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Twin Lakes, Upstate New York.**

Deidre Baskell had almost chewed her thumbnail down to the skin. She was doing the right thing, making a name for Sean. Making sure that his death wasn't in vain. That he would be added to the annals of art history one day and remembered for all time. At least, that was what she kept telling herself as sat at the kitchen table, staring at the cellar door.

Exhaustion was starting to set in now. It had taken so much out of her to drag that young man to the stairs and push him down. He had been so heavy, almost like the dead weight Sean had been when she had found him hanging and cut him loose.

Tears filled her eyes as she recalled the way he had slumped against her, cold and lifeless. His eyes closed, lips blue and that horrible, horrible bruising around his throat from the ceiling fan cord he had used. Her beautiful boy had been gone.

Guilt was gnawing at her for what she had done now. That young man, Agent Seger had been so nice and polite before. Deidre really shouldn't have been surprised that someone had finally realised what was happening, why the fires were starting. It was dreadful to think of those families. But what about Sean? Who would remember him in years to come after Deidre was gone, if she didn't do this for him now? If she didn't work to give him the recognition that should have been his in life?

No. This was right. Sean needed to be remembered.

But what exactly was Deidre going to do with the young man in her basement? He wouldn't stay unconscious forever and if he got loose, he would ruin everything she had done for Sean. Perhaps she should give him some more of Sean's sleeping pills? It would be a painless way for him to go. But then what would she do with his body? Deidre hadn't thought of that problem as she had slipped him the drugs before. What if his partner came looking for him?

Getting up from the kitchen table on legs that were a little more wobbly now from weariness, Deidre Baskell pushed aside the thoughts of body disposal for now. First and foremost, she needed to ensure that her body would remain just that. Drugging Agent Seger again while he was unconscious was of the essence to ensure he didn't escape.

Picking up the bottle from the table, Deidre shook it, a frown settling across her aged face as she realised there wasn't enough left in the bottle to do the job. She would need to get more from upstairs in Sean's room. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told Deidre that she needed to hurry. There was a buyer coming for one of the paintings in an hour and she wanted to be sure that Agent Seger wasn't going to be problem.

It took time to make it up the stairs to the first floor where the bedrooms were. Deidre remembered Sean telling his mother that she should sell the house and buy a little apartment that would be easier to handle. Something all on the one level. But there was no way Deidre would ever sell this house now. Not when Sean had died here.

Pushing open the door to Sean's room, Deidre went straight to the small desk near the window. An old desktop computer was sat gathering dust, a photo frame showing a portrait of a young Sean Baskell sitting just to the right of the keyboard, surrounded by tubes of paint that would never be used again..

In the top drawer was the last remaining bottle of sleeping tablets, nestled amongst other various medications that Sean had been taking until his death. Deidre hadn't been able to throw them out, preferring to leave the medication sat neatly as if awaiting his return.

Bottle of pills in hand, Deidre closed the drawer again and turned to leave the room. She paused as she reached the doorway, looking over her shoulder towards the walk in robe on the opposite side of the room. It was where she had stored the paintings when they had been brought home from the Orphanage and three of them were still wrapped up in there. Deirdre hesitated, weighing up how much time she had and how tired she was feeling, before she settled on the idea to take a painting with her now. There was no sense coming all the way back up here when she was able to take one downstairs ready for the buyer when they arrived.

Deidre tucked the pills into a pocket and walked over to the walk in robe, pulling the coversheet off the paintings. She separated them, tapping her bottom lip with a one finger as she decided which one to choose. The three remaining paintings were of two little boys and a girl. Deidre reached for the painting of a particularly sullen little boy before she changed her mind and took the girl instead. She had large blue eyes and a plaintive face that would be easier to sell than the sullen boy who seemed to almost be angry with the world. Deidre had a feeling she would find it hard to sell that painting and it unsettled her.

The painting was heavy thanks to the solid wooden frame around it and by the time Deidre had even made it to the stairs, she was finding herself growing short of breath. Half way down the stairs, she paused for another rest, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. Anxiety over how time was running out to get the pills into Agent Seger, had Deidre pushing herself to continue down the stairs again with the painting until she reached the bottom and was able to carry it to the living room.

She propped the painting against a table and all but collapsed into a chair for a moment to catch her breath. Just a few minutes, that's all she needed.

"No more!"

Deidre almost jumped out of her skin as the angry voice sounded just behind her. She turned in her chair, looking over her shoulder to see an apparition of the sullen little boy standing behind her with his hand clutching the little girl's hand. The girl was crying softly, snuffling and hitching with her breath.

But the little boy wasn't upset at all. The look on his face was pure anger. "No more. We wanna stay together!"

"I'm finding you a new home! All of you. Wouldn't you like that?" Deidre asked, trying to hide the shake in her voice. Each time she had sold a painting, this little boy, Nicholas had appeared becoming more and more sullen and demanding. While the other children merely seemed distraught by being separated., Nicholas was getting angrier and Deidre had found that she was becoming frightened of him. The anger had even begun to manifest in the painting itself.

"We don't want new homes! We wanna stay together!" Nicholas stepped forward then. He was smaller than the girl, barely six years of age. But the anger emanating from him was powerful. His family was being torn apart. Scattered. Nicholas was going to make it stop before he lost everyone he loved. Before it became too hard to find the others and he was alone. The old lady hadn't listened…and now he would make her.

Deidre leaned back in her chair as Nicholas stepped forward, reaching out towards her. He shook off the little girl as she tried to pull him back.

"No, Nicky! Don't hurt her!"

Nicholas kept walking, touching his hand to the arm of the chair Deidre was sitting in. Flames instantly leapt from his hand, igniting the fabric of the chair before it took to the sleeve of Deidre's dress and started to climb her arm. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Deidre Baskell as she watched the fire dance up her arm, skin smoking, flesh beginning to bubble…before everything snapped back to real time and she screamed in agony.

It was too late by then.

The chair and her dress was well alight by the time her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing. Deidre leapt to her feet as the flames engulfed her. She ran for the kitchen, screaming and flailing wildly at the fire consuming her, trailing fire behind her as everything she passed lit up with unnatural speed. The living room was quickly engulfed in flames that were spreading through to the kitchen and up the stairs to the rest of the house.

"Now she can't hurt us anymore." Nicholas said darkly, turning away from the horrid shrieks Deidre made before her throat was too burned to scream anymore. He took hold of the little girl's hand again as they vanished, knowing that they would be safe from the flames. They would be safe to find the others soon.

Around them, the fire continued to grow. Devouring everything and anything like a hungry beast that couldn't be sated.

xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx

Smoke, the smell thick and cloying, was rapidly filling the basement, flooding down the stairs. It was spreading out like a living creature, sliding over everything, curling up to the roof as it swirled and washed over the unconscious figure of Dean like the fingers on a hand, searching, seeking.

Dean brow furrowed ever so slightly as he stirred. "S'mmy…toast's b'rning, dude…"

Why wasn't Sam answering him? Dean's brow furrowed more, his eyelids flickering. Something wasn't right. Sam knew better than to leave toast in that long, it would set off the fire alarms again…and that had almost gotten them evicted last time while Dad was still two states away.

Dean needed to get up, he needed to see what had happened, but it was nice here. Cosy and warm and peaceful as he tried to lift his head, then let it settle to the floor again, all too happy to sink back into the darkness. "Mmm, jus' five more m'nutes…"

_No! Dean! No, wake up, dude. You hear me? You can't sleep!_

A soft, petulant groan slipped from Dean's lips as his eyebrows knitted together briefly. What the hell did his brother have against him sleeping in this morning?

_DEAN! No sleeping! Open your fucking eyes, damn it!_

"Sammy?" The name was spoken hoarsely as Dean coughed, his eyelids fluttering to reveal slivers of green briefly before they closed again. Another cough shook Dean before he groaned, his brain starting to fill in the blanks. It wasn't toast he was smelling…that apartment was long gone.

Flashes came to him. Mrs Baskell; that familiar sinking feeling of being drugged, Skye's voice broken and angry, being unable to stop the slow descent to his knees before he blacked out, his father's angry voice. All of them spinning and dancing around his head faster and faster, blending together until was sure he wanted to hurl. Where the hell was he? Where was the old woman? Crafty old bitch that she was. Dean couldn't believe he'd bought her whole little old grieving woman act. Oh sure, she was grieving…but she wasn't exactly an innocent. She was the cause of all these deaths. How the hell was Dean supposed to deal with her? It was pretty freaking obvious that she had no intentions on giving up those paintings, the crazy old bat.

Lifting a hand to his head, Dean jerked it away again with a sharp hiss of pain. There was a nice little goose egg just above the hairline, crusted with blood. It explained the headache that was slamming through his head like a jackhammer on overdrive.

A ragged, hoarse groan rumbled through Dean's chest as he got his hands under him and pushed himself up to take in his surroundings. The move had him gasping, inhaling more of the thick noxious smoke that was swimming only a few feet above his head now. The coughing fit that gripped him, shook Dean ferociously as his ribs seemed to detonate one after the other. He curled into himself, coughing and trembling violently, his green eyes glassy with pain that Dean was trying to breathe through…if he could actually breathe.

A hot ember seemed to drop from out of nowhere, landing on the back of his hand, searing the leather glove Dean was still wearing. He shook his hand to dislodge the ember and lifted his head to see the entire ceiling was engulfed in flames as more embers rained down.

Fear, deep and primal, gripped Dean. The fear of what killed his mother, of what took Jess from Sam…took his father's body from him. Fire was a tool of his trade and it was something that Dean was truly frightened of. He was frozen for a moment, watching as it seemed to crawl over the ceiling like a slow moving tide. Consuming, destroying. If the house above him was on fire, how the hell was Dean getting out of here?

Pushing himself up, Dean stumbled to his feet, choking on the smoke that hung like a London fog now throughout the room. Thick and blinding. He pulled up his suit jacket and tried to cover his mouth, desperate for a breath of fresh air, his eyes watering as he stumbled up the basement stairs. Reaching the door at the top, Dean could see the smoke pushing through under the door. Should he risk it? Taking off one glove, Dean hesitantly reached for the door handle, lightly touching a finger tip to it as he tried to judge whether it was hot. He snatched his finger back a moment later, jamming it in his mouth as it registered how hot the door handle was. Okay, that wasn't the way out of there, the whole house seemed to be ablaze, leaving Dean trapped.

Moving back down the stairs through the thick haze, he misjudged a step, the ground suddenly vanishing from under him as Dean pin wheeled his arms frantically to try and find his balance, before he pitched forward and found himself crashing to the ground.

There was no movement for a moment or two while Dean simply digested where he hurt and the few places he actually didn't…which were few and far between. God, what he wouldn't give right now to just crawl into a bottle of something and wash away every damn cut, scrape and firing pain synapse. Just make everything blur away again…

A harsh, bone shaking cough had Dean curling in on himself. He couldn't draw a full breath anymore, choking on smoke with each desperate gasping breath. His eyes watering so much he could barely see. Looking around him, Dean tried to work out what was up and what was down for him. Everything seemed to be spinning, adding to the confusion and disorientation that already seemed to be packing his head with cotton wool. Dean knew he was dead if he didn't move. It was becoming too tempting to just stay here on the floor and just close his eyes and let go. He was dead anyway, right? So he went to Hell a little sooner than scheduled…

No.

Dean wasn't going out yet. No yet. He wasn't quitting on his family like some freaking punk. He sure as hell wasn't going to go out in a fucking house fire. Wouldn't that just amuse the Yellow Eyed bastard no end?

His arms were shaking from the effort as Dean pushed himself up again. He felt as weak as a kitten and each congested coughing fit he tried to fight off was only making it worse by the minute. There was no way out via the stairs, but another look around the basement gave Dean hope. There was a window on the back wall. It wasn't very big, but Dean would have squeezed himself through a fucking mouse hole if it got him away from the smoke, ash and radiant heat that he could feel searing his skin. Timber was creaking above his head, threatening to crash down at any moment with the weight of the entire house behind it. Embers had begun to rain down, igniting rags and other items in the basement, adding to the smoke that was already filling the room. If Dean didn't get his ass into gear, they'd be using dental records to identify him.

It was a stumbling, almost drunken stagger towards the tiny window. Dean could see blue sky outside, grass brushing against the sill. He turned in a half circle, looking for something to stand on and settled for a box of old home craft magazines. It wasn't the most stable thing, but it gave him enough height to reach the window. He could see the yard now. Freedom was just beyond that glass, but the window frame itself had been painted shut, the latch rusty with disuse. Stripping off his suit jacket, Dean wrapped it around one fist, choking back another coughing fit and flailing out for purchase against the wall to keep his footing. His head sagged against the cement work as he struggled to pull in a breath, tasting nothing but ash. Bile rolled up his throat and with a shudder, Dean swallowed it back down. He straightened up and lashed out with his protected fist, shattering the glass, then hurrying to remove as much as he could from the frame. The suit jacket fell to the floor as Dean shook his hand free, then reached up to pull himself through the window. It was tight fit to say the least, Dean kicking his feet behind him as he dragged himself along the cool grass outside, his fingers digging into the turf like winch anchors to pull him forward. Hot, slicing pain slid along one shoulder and bit in just above his left hip where Dean hadn't been completely successful in clearing away the glass in the window frame. Fresh, warm blood was soaking through his shirt, but Dean couldn't let himself worry about that now.

He was free of the window, free of the house. Pushing himself to all fours, Dean could hear sirens close and knew the fire department had arrived. Could he risk being caught? The questions? The scrutiny of why he was in the house in the first place? Rising to his knees, Dean looked around him blearily. His mind was still fogged with smoke inhalation and the gritty remnants of whatever the hell those sleeping tablets were. It would be better not to be caught, that was for sure. With all the deaths that had happened, Dean didn't need to be cooling his heels in a lock up while they tried to figure out if they had caught themselves a serial arsonist. From the street, Dean could hear the trucks pulling up and the shouts of firemen throwing orders back and forth. There was only one way out of here that allowed him to remain unseen.

Rising up the rest of his way to his feet, Dean almost pitched face first back into the grass again before he found his balance. A few stumbling steps took him to the fence and with what little strength he had left in his rubbery limbs, Dean dragged himself over it and tumbled into the neighbouring yard. He hit hard and rolled onto his back, his chest heaving as he greedily sucked in the fresh, clean air around him. Just a few minutes, yeah…that was all he needed. A few minutes to clear his head, clear his lungs…

At least, that's what Dean kept telling himself as his vision started to tunnel in around the edges like one of those old TV sets when you turned it off. His body became completely lax as Dean lost his hold on consciousness, lying half hidden amongst a bed of daisy bushes.

XxxxxXXXXXxxxxx

**Somewhere outside Rapid City, South Dakota. **

Elise could taste blood.

A stinging pain had settled into her finger, drawing her gaze away from Sam and down to her hand where she realised she'd chewed her nail down to the skin and drawn blood. She shook her hand with a quiet hiss, angry at herself about it and even more angry at the situation she had been caught up in. How helpless she felt watching Sam bleeding a few feet away from her.

The Seeker demons were all huddled together on the floor between Elise and the table Sam was tied down on. The foul creatures all seemed to melt and merge with one another, making Elise think of how animals tended to huddle together for warmth. Almost like a litter of puppies. It was a sickening thought that gave her an involuntary shudder. She'd never look at puppies the same way again.

Right now? Elise was pretty sure she wouldn't look at a lot of things the same way again. Being forced to sit back helplessly, while Shepard picked Sam apart in front of her, was going to slowly drive her insane. Listening to that smug bastard's silken voice filling the room. Seeing that slow, sadistic smile appear every time he managed to find a way to hurt Sam again.

"Tell me, Sam? Is Elise aware of just what sort of a monster she's involved herself with?" Shepard arched an eyebrow at the young man tied down before him. He walked around the table, casting a wary eye down at the devil's trap beneath the table, watching as the blood fed it, each drip causing it to glow a little brighter.

Sam wasn't fighting the ropes anymore, his eyes at half mast now, his limbs feeling heavy and leaden. He had tried exorcising Shepard earlier, the Latin rolling off his tongue with ease from years of practise. But the demon had simply laughed at Sam, sliding up one sleeve to reveal the binding lock scorched into his forearm. There was no quick fix here and with every drop of blood that hit the floor, Sam knew he was taking another step towards death.

"Leave him alone." Elise snapped, finding a moment of courage that didn't try and flee as Shepard's cold blue eyes lifted to meet hers across the room. Her stomach turned to ice, but Elise held that gaze, her jaw jutting out defiantly. "Look at you, strutting around like a rooster, all puffed out and proud. You're nothing but paid scum, mate. A little pissant who gets paid to break knee caps for the boss."

"Awww, isn't that sweet, Sam? I must be touching a nerve now. Your little girlfriend is getting all defensive. She really doesn't have any idea of what you can do, does she? She thinks you're the hero of the day still. Have you even told her?" Shepard leaned in over Sam again, grabbing the boy by the chin and making him look at him.

"Told her what?" Sam asked tiredly, blinking slowly as he made himself focus on what Shepard was saying. Needing to stay awake now. He couldn't give in to the comfort of sleep that wanted him so desperately.

"About the innocent lives you've taken? The girl who you tore apart in that car…one minute so eager to lose yourself in her, your hands all over her pert little body, so eager to taste her and screw her. The next? You were bathed in her blood."

"What?" Elise breathed softly in horror.

"She was a demon…" Sam was glad he couldn't see Elise's face right now. He didn't want to see the horror, the disappointment in her eyes.

"She was a 19 year old girl as well, Sam. Did you give a moment's thought to that? To saving her? Exorcising the demon from her? No…why would you? You didn't spare any thought for the innocent lives in that diner either…a dozen or more people dead in an instant because poor little Sam Winchester came face to face with a demon again. You really do need to learn to control your temper, Sam." Shepard patted Sam on the cheek, smiling. "That woman had a husband. Three children…five grand children. She would have liked to have gone home to them, Sam. Was probably screaming at you from inside to save her. But you weren't interested in anything but your own pain, were you?"

"Sam?" Elise had seen the state of Sam back when he thought Dean was dead. How hollowed out and broken Sam had been. She had seen the way he tore the demons apart at the church. But innocent people? Sam had never spoken about that. Was it all true? It wasn't as if Elise was unaware of his darker side. But just how far did the rabbit hole really go with Sam?

Shepard straightened and slowly stalked towards Elise, his eyes boring into her like a cat watching a mouse, waiting for it to move, to twitch even…before it pounced. He could smell the fear on her, even though she tried to hide it, forcing herself to look defiant. It was an impressive effort, but her eyes betrayed her as Shepard crouched before her.

"You don't know anything about Sam. Not the real Sam. Not the one that left a trail of bodies behind him in the wake of Dean's death. He never told you any of that…why do you think that is, Elise? To protect you? Because he was ashamed? Or because he knows that he's really a monster deep inside? Sam knows you could never love what he really is…so he's tried to hide it. Tried to pretend he's still a hero."

"Shut up…" Elise spat back quietly. Demons tried to screw with your head. Sam, Dean…even John and Bobby had said that to Elise before. But Sam was part demon himself. What if he had been lying to her as well? Had she really seen his dark side? Did she really know Sam, or just what he wanted her to see?

Doubt. Was there anything more wonderful in the world? Except perhaps pain? But then…doubt was often a forerunner to pain, so it was just as delicious for Shepard. The appetiser before the main course.

"I'll bet Sam hasn't told you the best one." Shepard was watching every glance, every moment of doubt that crossed Elise's face. "His name was Bryan Chambers. He had a sister that still wonders what happened to her little brother…why someone would do what they did to him. Why her brother was torn open? Just ripped apart like a rag doll."

Elise could feel the blood draining from her face. "No…"

"Yes." Shepard was like a shark smelling blood in the water now, moving in for the kill, leaning closer to Elise as he spoke. "Sam was up to his elbows in Bryan's guts…tearing and shredding, just pulling the poor man to pieces, bathed in blood and body parts…and his only crime? Was that Sam mistook him for Dean."

"You….you're lying." Elise couldn't find any strength in her voice now.

"Am I now? How about we ask Sam if he can defend what he did? I for one would love to know what excuse he has?" Shepard looked over his shoulder towards the table. "We both know the truth, don't we, Sam? How much you enjoyed it…how it was nothing but sweet release."

"Go to hell!" Sam growled staring at the ceiling now. He couldn't look at Elise. Not now. He'd heard the horror in her voice and how could he blame her? He was a monster. He'd become the one thing he never wanted to be. He was no better than Max Miller. No…he was worse. Max had at least tried to justify what he had done by hurting the people who had hurt him. Sam couldn't even say that. The people he had killed hadn't tried to hurt him. Rage and grief was no excuse for what he had done.

"Sam could have killed the police back at Rapid City, but he didn't." Elise told Shepard, looking the demon square in the eye with every bit of courage she was able to muster. "He didn't kill anyone, even when they were shooting at us. And you know why? Because he's not like you. He's not some ugly, twisted arsehole like you want to make him out to be. You're the one that doesn't know him, mate…so get the fuck out of my face."

Shepard snorted; a short, sharp sound of amusement as he lowered his head for a moment. When his eyes lifted again to meet Elise's, they had rolled back in his head to show nothing but milky white. " You really should watch that tongue of yours…or it might just get bitten off."

Elise tried to draw back, but found herself unable to move. She watched, frozen, her heart racing in terror as Shepard reached up and grabbed her wrists. The grip was like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until Elise gasped in pain, tears pricking her eyes. It felt as thought the bones were just going to shatter beneath his grasp. "Please…let go…"

The pressure eased instantly, but there was no relief, because in it's place came a slow burning sensation. A warmth that increased with each beat of her heart, bringing a small strangled sob from Elise as it began to see feel like a flame held against her skin. She couldn't struggle, couldn't pull away as the heat grew and grew, her wrists feeling like the skin was bubbling and melting. The sob became a cry of pain and quickly grew into a scream as Elise looked down to see her wrists turning red and blistering. But Shepard's hands were untouched.

"Elise?? No! NO! Leave her alone! You son of a bitch! Leave her out of this! Elise!!" Sam was twisting and bucking against his restraints again, blood spilling from his arms in fresh gouts. He didn't want her to suffer because of him. He was the reason Jess had died, Sam wouldn't be able to live with himself if he lost Elise to another demon. "Stop it!! Leave her alone!"

The Seeker demons had awoken at her first cries, watching with their sickly yellow eyes and whining amongst themselves as they heard Elise's pain. They shifted and moved restlessly, excited by what was happening, wanting to be involved.

"Sam spilt innocent blood the first time his brother died…what did you think he'll become when his brother is in Hell for eternity? Think about it…" Shepard pushed Elise away from him, smiling as she curled into herself, tears washing down her face as her shoulders shook from her quiet crying. He rose to his feet and signalled to the Seekers to remain where they were. There would be time later for them to have the girl. Right now, she was still amusing for Shepard and he enjoyed having an audience.

"I swear to God I'm going to fucking kill you." Sam snarled at Shepard as he saw the demon approaching the table again. He strained against the ropes holding him, trying to see where Elise was. "Elise? Elise…answer me…"

"I'm…I'm alright…" Elise managed brokenly, remaining curled into a ball, her blistered arms tucked in against herself. She turned her thoughts towards home, her brother, anything but the pain still pulsating through her arms with each heartbeat.

"She'll be just fine, Sam. For now. I'm not going to make any promises though. I have such a short attention span when it comes to humans. It's no challenge to torture them. They give in so easily, start sobbing, begging. It all becomes a little too tedious for my liking. But I have to admit. I'm hoping to cross paths with that brother of yours when he ends up in the Pit. Although I imagine there may be quite a queue from what I have heard. Like meeting a rock star." Shepard scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm sure Dean would have loved the attention." Sam said darkly, wishing his brother was with him right now. His wisecracks would have no doubt drawn unwanted attention and pain from Shepard, but Sam always knew that his brother would be plotting some way to get them out of the situation. "But I'm still getting him out of the deal.."

"Really?" Shepard arched an eyebrow at Sam. "Leaving your run a little late aren't you, Sam? Only a few more months before the deal's due and you're still sitting on your hands. It seems to me that you're not fighting as hard for your brother as you want everyone to think you are."

"Fuck you!"

"Why is that, Sam? Could it be that your looking for another excuse to wrap yourself in that darkness again? Another reason to go right off the rails. Because it felt good, didn't it? All that power, the ability to just snuff a life with a flick of a wrist. It was intoxicating. You were enjoying yourself deep inside and you just don't want to admit it. But we're all friends here, Sammy. You can be honest with us. There's no shame in admitting that you see your brother's death as an excuse for another bender…"

"No."

"You've been letting it grow, haven't you? Your abilities. I could sense it before I saw you, Sam. I could smell it in that police precinct. That sort of power lingers… and right now, it's coursing through your veins and spilling onto the floor beneath you. Powering the trap to keep you my prisoner. That blood will take time to replace Sam and in it's place? You're going to feel empty…hollow. Half the man you are. Well…until I kill you, anyway."

"So why don't you then?" Sam spat back angrily, slumping back on the table. His wrists had been scraped red raw and bleeding by the ropes holding them and the slow but steady blood loss from the various bite marks down his arms had left Sam weakened now. He hated to admit that Shepard was right. That he felt empty, weak, pathetic. The blood, the darkness that sang through his veins had become a part of Sam now and with that presence diminishing, he felt alone and scared.

"In a hurry to see Hell for yourself, Sam? Hoping to be waiting for Dean when he gets there?" Shepard leaned over Sam then, mere inches from his face. "It's all so sweet…but I'm afraid Dean's going to beat you there. He's cashing his deal in early."

"You're lying."

"Not this time. You know how it works Sam. It's more fun this time to tell you the truth…" Shepard patted Sam on the chest almost consolingly. "But you'll see him soon enough."

With a quick snap of his fingers as he straightened up, Shepard caught the attention of the lead Seeker and signalled it to approach. The creature was up on it's feet immediately, slinking over to Shepard and rubbing around his legs like a cat, fawning and almost slobbering with excitement. There was so much blood that the Seeker was trembling with hunger and excitement, it's long purple tongue sliding out to wash over it's thin lips while it watched Shepard anxiously.

Shepard ran his hand over the Seeker's head as if it was an affectionate hound, smiling down at the whimpering demon. "You've been patient long enough…help yourself."

Sam's stomach coiled in revulsion as he felt the slimy wet tongue slid over his arm at first. He turned his head and saw the Seeker beside him, dragging it's tongue up his arm in long, languid strokes. It's yellow eyes watched his every move, soft muffled sounds of pleasure rumbling through the demon as it was allowed to taste Sam's blood.

Sam tried to jerk his arm away from the Seeker, grunting in pain and feeling a cold sweat flush over his body as he fought to crawl out of the demon's reach but found himself utterly trapped and helpless. "No! No!" There was no mistaking the hunger in the demon's eyes and terror gripped Sam seconds before he saw the Seeker's thin, needle-like teeth appear. It bit down deep into the flesh of his forearm, drinking greedily as fresh blood welled up into it's mouth.

A sharp hiss slipped from Sam's lips as he gritted his teeth and tried to block the pain from his mind. The sensation of his blood being drained from his arm was something Sam had never wished to have known. His heart racing now to try and compensate for the loss of blood, hammering faster and faster in his chest as Sam felt his strength leaving him. A flash of movement to his left drew Sam's attention, turning to see another Seeker leaning in over his left arm before it bit down to the bone. Blood welled up, spilling over the Seeker's lips and running down Sam's arm as he cried out in agony.

Shepard stepped away from the table then, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Sam writhing and groaning in pain. It was finally time to make contact with Azazel and discuss payment. The silver goblet he had been given before he undertook the job, was sitting on a small side table nearby and as the Seekers fed from Sam, Shepard retrieved the goblet and filled it with Sam's blood as it dribbled down from the table to the floor.

Swirling his finger through the rapidly cooling liquid, Shepard walked off towards the kitchen, wanting a little privacy so he could negotiate properly. He didn't even spare Sam a glance as he left. The boy was as good as dead anyway.

Sweat had plastered Sam's mop-like hair to his head, his skin becoming paler as he was drained of his lifeblood. More and more Seekers were moving in now, shoving and fighting each other to find the prime places to feed. Latching onto his legs, one feeding from Sam's stomach, another from his thigh. Guzzling down the blood like thick strawberry topping as they mewled and cooed in pleasure.

Sam's struggles were diminishing now as he found himself slipping into the darkness, his head full of cotton wool and unable to focus on anything. The pain was starting to shift into numbness, his brain closing down on him in the ultimate act of self preservation and allowing Sam to drift into semi-consciousness. His eyes sliding closed, his head rolling to the side as he went still, reaching out in the darkness for the one presence he needed right now as he stared death in the face.

Dean.

Sam wanted to see Dean again, needed to know that Shepard was wrong. Dean couldn't die. He just couldn't. They still had time to save him. He could have his life with Skye, Connor and the baby. Sam had to make sure that happened.

He tried reaching out with his mind, knowing he had reached Dean before, answering his brother's fear over Skye and the baby. But that had been with his abilities. Sam couldn't use them now. How could he reach Dean?

And then…somehow, through the darkness. He felt it. It was weak at first, like the fluttering of butterfly wings, the touch of a summer breeze. Light and teasing…but enough for Sam to latch onto. Dean's presence. His life-force in the darkness surrounding Sam, drawing Sam to his brother until he was able to see him lying on a basement floor, surrounded by smoke, fighting to breathe.

"_Mmm, jus' five more m'nutes…"_

Sam wasn't there this time. Not in the true sense like he had always been with Dean in the dreams before. This was more like being forced to observe from behind a glass window, when all Sam wanted to do was shake his brother and wake him up. _No! Dean! No, wake up, dude. You hear me? You can't sleep!_

The groan that slipped from Dean's lips was the sweetest sound Sam had heard in a long time. So familiar, so utterly Dean over all the years that Sam had woken his brother in the mornings before Dad had called them or the alarm had gone off. Soft, petulant and bringing an ache to Sam's chest at the thought that he might never hear that sound again if he lost his brother here. _DEAN! No sleeping! Open your fucking eyes, damn it!_

"_Sammy?"_

A half strangled sob of relief escaped Sam as he saw Dean's eyes flutter and heard his name on his lips. Sam wanted to yell, he wanted Dean to know that he was there with him. But he could feel the darkness flooding in around him, his tentative grip on Dean's presence already slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold on. Sam continued to scrabbled futilely to keep the connection in place, scared that if he let go, he would lose Dean forever….

Elise was perched on the couch, watching in horror as those…those _things_ were feeding from Sam. Killing him. They had to be. There was so much blood. Too much blood. The moment Shepard had left the room, Elise had decided it was time to make her move before it was too late and now she was praying that she hadn't screwed up and waited too long. Drawing herself out of the ball she had curled into; biting her lip against the stinging pain in her arms as she looked around the room for the means to get Sam out of that trap. Living for months in Bobby Singer's house had exposed Elise to enough books to give her some basic knowledge of Devil's traps and what they were for….and how to break them.

Sam looked so still now, so pale amidst a pool of his own blood. But even that was starting to be lapped at by the Seekers. Sickening slurping and sucking sounds were coming from the table. The Seeker demons too lost in their meal to care about the other occupant of the room as long as she didn't try to move. Shepard had been so damn smug, sure he had every base, every angle covered.

Well Elise was about to throw a spanner in the works for him. A large brass lamp sat beside the couch she had taken refuge on. The base of it was huge and Elise knew it had to be heavy. At least, that was what she was counting on, because she had one shot and only one shot at this. It was better to go out like this though and give Sam a fighting chance, than wait for Shepard to just finish her off as an afterthought.

Elise was no one's afterthought.

Moving as carefully as she could to stop the Seekers discovering her plan, Elise slipped her feet to the floor beside the lamp and stood up. Her heartbeat and rapid, scared breathing seemed to be all she could hear as she gripped the lamp tightly, grimacing at the pain arcing through her scalded arms before she planted her feet and lifted it with a growl of determination. The lamp was heavier than Elise had expected and the muscles in her shoulders and back screamed in protest as she hefted it up over her head and slammed it down through the floor beneath the table. The polished wooden floorboards cracked and broke away as the lamp base buried into the floor.

Elise had time to see with a sense of triumph, that the deep crimson glow the trap had been emanating since Sam had been strapped to it, was now gone. Then a horrid stench filled her senses as a Seeker collided with her, knocking Elise to the floor hard enough that even went white for an instant. She fought to keep it's jaws away from her throat as the demon loomed in, it's bloody slobber dripping as it snapped mere inches from her neck.

It was a match flaring to life within the darkness of night. One brilliant little spark flaring to life and growing hotter and hotter as it surged to life. The Devil's Trap was broken and with it, the hold on Sam. He was jolted awake by searing heat through his body and an insatiable need to inflict pain. Nothing made sense. Thoughts, feelings, memories were all jumbled together at first, colliding and slamming against each other in Sam's mind as his eyes fluttered open, looking around blearily.

The pain through out his body made it hard for Sam to focus on anything else and on pure instinct, he reacted to make it stop, the Seekers all blown backwards as though on cables, slamming into furniture and walls, yelping in pain and surprise at their meal being so rudely interrupted.

Elise gasped as she was suddenly freed from the Seeker demon's threat. She rolled up onto her hands and knees, feeling something lock onto her ankle with a cold, vice-link grip. The Seeker was trying to drag her to it, gibbering and whimpering excitedly as it realised it had a firm hold on her. Kicking out with her free leg, Elise caught the Seeker under the chin, dark oily looking blood spraying as it bit through it's tongue. The offensive piece of flesh wriggling and squirming as it hit the floor, drawing a shriek from Elise as she tried to kick it away from her.

Sam tried to sit up as Elise's shriek reached him, slicing through his confused, pained state and honing everything he was feeling into a solitary emotion. Rage.

The rope that had been restraining Sam snapped like elastic bands, instantly freeing Sam and allowing him to struggle up into a sitting position. His mind was clearing rapidly, feeling the taint of each and every Seeker in the building. Recalling the disgusting sensation of their mouths on his, suckling and lapping at his blood like kittens with milk. But it was more than that. Sam could feel Elise's fear, her abject terror as she tried to free herself from the Seeker that held her. Without hesitation, he raised a bloody hand and made a twisting motion.

The Seeker holding Elise made a sudden, surprised sound in the back of it's throat, before it's head was suddenly rotated violently all the way around. A sharp snap of bone was heard before the Seeker flopped to the floor lifeless except for the spasmodic twitches from it's limbs. Elise skittered backwards frantically from the Seeker until she hit the wall behind her.

Sam had to help Elise, pushing himself to his feet and grasping the table for support as his knees buckled under him. He was trembling as he tried to pull himself up, feeling his strength waning, the task seeming almost impossible as he called on reserves that were well past depleted. The lose of concentration meant that the remaining Seekers were free to move, picking themselves up from where they had been thrown around the room and advancing on Sam, gibbering and yipping excitedly, sensing a kill.

Raising one hand, palm Sam's brow furrowed in concentration as he drew deep within himself for the power he needed. A trickle of blood slid from his nose, running down over his lip to drip to the floor. Pain filled Sam's face as he shuddered, tasting blood in his mouth, feeling the toll this was taking on him as he unleashed a wave of dark energy that washed out from him, shattering the Seeker demons as though they were comprised of ash. Obliterating the demons before they could even take another step towards him or Elise.

Before the ash had even had settled to the floor, Sam's knees buckled again and he collapsed, his chest heaving, head hanging down as he found himself on his hands and knees.

"Sam!" Elise began to scramble towards Sam, terrified by how pale he looked, how stark the blood was on him.

"Elise, get out of here…" Sam growled, his head still down. "Get out the front door and run. Take the Impala and get of here."

Elise froze and looked at Sam as though he had lost his mind. "Okay…I know I couldn't have heard you right, then. It sounded like you told me to bail on you?"

"I mean it, Elise. You need to get out of here…now."

"Forget it, Sam! No bloody way am I leaving you here."

"Damn it, Elise." Sam didn't have the time or the strength to argue this with her.

"Yes…please, don't leave on my account." Shepard reappeared from the kitchen, the picture of calm, which masked the fact he was shaken by the loss of his Seekers. He could smell it in the air, taste it through the outer planes…they weren't banished. They were destroyed. "I'm hurt, Sam. I really am. Those demons were my pets…I raised them from the pit pools as mere Imps…and you destroyed them without a care."

"Sorry if I don't exactly shed any tears over them…" Sam ground out, still trying to catch his breath as he trembled on his hands and knees.

"I have to say, though. I'm rather touched that you were trying to save Elise from me." Shepard smiled as he approached the girl and watched her shrink away from him. "It's a shame that it was wasted."

His hand flashed out as fast as a cobra, catching Elise under the throat and pulling her off the floor. Her hands flew up to his wrist, clawing and pulling at it as she coughed, finding it impossible to draw a breath.

"It wasn't you I was protecting her from." Sam growled, pushing himself to his feet and lifting his head at last. His eyes had shifted from hazel, to black, golden flecks dancing within like flames. "You said I was a monster? A freak? You have no idea…" A cold, almost feral smile split his lips as he rose to his full height, drawing on the only thing he'd had left inside him. The darkness. The demonic taint that would always be a part of him now. It had been ignited the day Dean had died in Sam's arms and he wasn't about to let any human weakness within him cost him the woman he loved now. Sam was ready to embrace that darkness again, the power rushing through his veins with each pulse of his heart.

Jess' death was still a bitter, ugly wound. No demon was ever hurting Sam that way again. Not now that he could fight back on their terms. "Let her go."

"Or what?" Shepard sneered. "You willing to risk me snapping her neck like a twig?"

Elise was losing her grip on consciousness, gasping for air as her feet slowly began to kick in more and more feeble circles in midair. One hand fell away from Shepard's wrist to hang limply at her side.

Lifting his hand, Sam reached out with his mind to Shepard, flinging the demon off his feet and into the nearest wall. The move broke his grip on Elise, dropping her to the floor in a heap that seemed almost boneless until she coughed and sucked in a desperate breath, her brain registering that the obstruction was gone. Ugly bruising was already coming up on her pale skin and it only enraged Sam further.

Shepard was stuck to the wall like a fly to flypaper. It was a sensation he wasn't overly fond of…or familiar with, really. He was the one who pinned down his victims like insects beneath a pin. He was the one that made them fear for their life. To have the tables turned like this wasn't enjoyable at all. But that didn't mean he couldn't turn it to his advantage. "So…we finally see the real Sam Winchester."

Elise had pulled herself to her feet, taking several shaky steps towards Sam, her heart racing as she saw the darkness of his eyes. There was a coldness in his face that was so very alien to the man she knew and loved. As if the Sam she knew had been buried behind a horror mask now, taking her back to that fight in the church. "Sam?"

"Go on, Sam. Show Elise the real you…the monster you became when your brother died. You can't keep denying your true self forever. You were chosen for a reason…because you were always meant to be what you are. Embrace it." Shepard taunted Sam. "Doesn't Elise deserve to see what you are capable of?"

"No, she doesn't. But you do…" Sam ground out, stalking towards Shepard so smoothly, his head cocked to the side ever so slightly that it made Elise think of a panther moving. All coiled muscles and minimal energy. But the power, the sheer presence emanating from Sam was so dark, so cold, it had Elise backing up a few steps.

"Not so scary without your pets, huh, Shepard…or maybe it's time I used your real name? Andras…" There was a flicker of fear from the demon now and Sam was moving in like a shark smelling blood in the water.

"Get out of my head." Andras growled, twisting his head from side to side in a futile attempt to try and wriggle free of the force holding him. This wasn't right. He wasn't used to being violated like this, feeling Sam crawling through his mind at will. Azazel hadn't said anything about Sam being this powerful. Was that arrogant bastard even aware of what he had created here? Playing God and creating that stupid little army of his that had failed in the end.

It had been over a century since any mortal being had spoken his name and to hear it said with such contempt now? Infuriated the demon.

"Get out of your head? You're looking for me to show you a little mercy? I don't think so, Andras." Sam was right in his face now, studying the demon before him with interest.

"No? Then what now, Sam? Is this where you kill me? Or should I say, kill Peter Shepard? Because you can't get rid of me without destroying this meat suit, boy. Are you willing to cross that line? Did I push you enough to bring the real you out to play at last? Come on… do it. Send me back to Hell and show Elise just what you are. A freak who causes the death of everyone around him…" Andras sneered now, meeting Sam's dark gaze with a defiant glare. "It's what you've always done, Sam…it's all you'll ever do."

Sam reached out behind him, drawing a piece of glass from the floor to his hand with a mere thought. It wasn't a large piece of glass. Just a small shard from a broken painting frame, a single piece amidst the debris that was scattered now in the wake of the Seekers destruction. He rolled it around in his hand carefully, feeling the jagged, sharp edges biting against his skin. The darkness was singing in his veins now and Sam was finding it harder and harder to resist it. It felt like home again. Warm, safe…the same intoxicating lure he had felt at the Police Precinct in Rapid City. The same darkness he had so willingly wrapped around him when Dean had died.

The sharpest edge of the glass shard kissed the skin under Andras' throat, a bright spot of rich scarlet blood appearing almost instantly. The demon curled his lip slightly, feeling that single spot of blood begin to slide down his throat until it stained his collar.

Sam barely blinked, his lips drawing back to reveal gritted teeth as he snarled softly. "That's where you're wrong."

The glass shard was whipped away from beneath Andras' chin, sweeping downwards instead and slicing through the skin on his forearm. The skin slid apart over the binding lock, destroying Andras' hold on Shepard's body. Blood welled up from the wound as Sam lifted his hand and immediately began to draw Andras from the body. There was no escaping, no fleeing the scene to take over some unsuspecting soul. Sam wanted to kill Andras and make sure he couldn't harm anyone again. But his strength was failing him again, concentration furrowing his brow as Sam fought to drag Andras from the body he had been riding before it was too late to save Peter Shepard.

Blood spilt from his nose, pain deepening the lines in Sam's face as he began to tremble with the strain of what he was doing. Thick black smoke began to erupt from Shepard's mouth in deep choking coughs, falling to the ground as though it was too heavy to float.

Elise stayed back, stunned by what she was seeing. This was nothing like the church or the Seekers. This wasn't some blast that had exploded from Sam in a moment of white hot rage. This was controlled and precise, like watching a surgeon extract a cancer from the body of a patient. This was the man she loved, pulling a demon out of someone with his mind. She took a step back, her emotions warring within her with sheer logic right now at what she was seeing. Everything within her was telling her to run. But this was Sam. He was sweet and kind and made her laugh. That was her Sam and he would be back again.

Wouldn't he?

The smoke pouring from Shepard's mouth was disappearing into the floor, swallowed up within a glowing circle of fire that gave the appearance of him standing in the middle of a pit of embers. The fire vanished as the last of the smoke was consumed and Sam feel back a step at last, lowering his hand and releasing Shepard.

The man slid to the floor, staring up at Sam with wide, confused eyes as he gasped for breath, feeling like he'd been trapped into a dark little box for the last few days. But that wasn't the worst part of it. The worst part had been aware of what his body had been doing all this time. The deaths it had caused for sheer amusement, the torture it had inflicted on the man standing before him. Was he a man? His eyes were all wrong and the things he had been able to do? Peter Shepard was starting to wonder what he had been caught in the middle of. Sure, he had read news reports of supposed demon possessions in the tabloids. Had heard his fair share of stories that couldn't be explained. But being face to face with it was something completely different.

"Please…don't hurt me. Just…just let me go, mate. I'll be out of your hair, you'll never see me again, I promise." Shepard raised his hands, ignoring the fact they were shaking severely.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Sam told him, looming over the man still. "But you're going to something for me. You're going back and clearing things up for Elise. You're going to make all that paperwork and bureaucratic red tape go away so that no one is going to harass her or deport her again."

"You…you want-?"

"I saved your life today…now you can repay me by getting the heat off Elise's back. It's that simple. Otherwise I'll come looking for you…" Sam backed off a couple of steps then. "Get going…"

Shepard didn't need to be told twice. The man gave one last look between Sam and Elise, expecting it all to be a lie, before he decided that he was willing to take his chances. With a sound akin to a whimper, he bolted for the kitchen door, hitting it so hard that it slammed against the outer wall.

Sam half turned, his eyes clear again, nothing but familiar hazel seeking out Elise as he gave her a tired smile. He had done it. At least, he hoped so. Even if Shepard didn't honour what Sam had done for him, there was no way Sam would ever lose Elise again. She was safe now and that was all he needed. That was all that mattered as his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled under him.

"Sam!" Elise yelped, rushing forward as she saw him collapse to the floor. She dropped to her knees beside him, searching for a pulse with her heart in her mouth until she found it, much faster than it should be, but still strong. With a hitching breath, she leaned forward, resting her head on Sam's chest for a moment. "We seriously need to talk about you laying off on the junk food if you're going to keep passing out on me, Sam. You're not exactly the lightest guy to drag around, you know?" A chuckle, verging on hysteria broke from Elise, tears burning her eyes as she squeezed them shut.

They couldn't stay there. Elise needed to put as much distance between her and what had happened here, as she could. As soon as she had gotten Sam's wounds bandaged, she would work on getting them out of here.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

_Waking up to blue skies wasn't exactly what Sam had expected when his world had gone dark. There had been a moment of utter confusion, maybe even a little panic as he thought maybe the blue skies meant he had actually freaking crossed over or something…although he had to admit, he was definitely expecting hellfire in place of clouds. But then he had seen Dean lying nearby and everything had fallen into place. Sam had shaken his brother awake, grateful that however they entered this dream state of their's? Pain wasn't part of it. Dean looked like shit, but Sam couldn't have given a flying fuck at that moment. Not when Dean was alive and breathing, his shoulder brushing against Sam's as they both sat in a garden bed full of daisy bushes looking like victims of a train wreck._

"_Seriously dude…a little old lady? You're seriously damaging my childhood memories of hero worship now." Sam grinned. _

"_Fuck you, bitch."_

"_Not in your wildest dreams, jerk And what's with the Michael Jackson thing you've got going there?" _

"_Huh?" Dean shot his brother a puzzled look then tracked his gaze down to the one lone glove still sitting on his hand. A snort of amusement shook him before Dean peeled off the remaining leather glove and dropped it to the ground. "Don't need them anymore anyway."_

"_Oh…yeah, cause you're a poster child for health and wellbeing, dude." _

"_Pot, kettle. You're not gracing GQ anytime soon, Sammy. What the hell happened anyway?"_

"_Long story." _

_The brothers shared a look for a moment before they both started chuckling again. Sam shook his head in amusement, before he sobered, staring at his hands. "So how long you think we have here before one of us wakes up?'_

"_I don't know, man. Not long enough." Dean admitted quietly. "And you still have my car, dude. I thought I told you to take it to Bobby's?" _

"_I'm not gonna scratch it, Dean." Sam grinned. _

"_No…you're just getting blood all over my seats instead." Dean growled, his voice more full of concern than anything that resembled anger. He looked at Sam again, studying each wound with that trained eye Sam was so familiar with. " It's a bitch to get out of the leatherwork, dude."_

"_Yeah well, you can kick my ass about it when you get to Bobby's okay?" _

"_Damn straight I--…wait, what?" Dean tilted his head slightly, caught off guard. _

_Sam could feel himself growing lighter, the connection he shared with Dean fading suddenly. It was strange feeling, the sort of butterflies your stomach experienced as you rode a rollercoaster. The ground seemed to be falling away from him now but as he caught Dean's bright green eyes watching him, Sam was struck by the sadness he saw within them. "Dean…"_

"_It's okay, Sammy…just take care of yourself, okay? Keep Elise safe…." _

"_No, Dean, wait!" Sam almost growled with frustration, trying to make the connection stronger again, desperate to stay with his brother just a little longer. Knowing that Dean was alone. "Dean!"_

"_Take care of my car, dude…" Dean smiled sadly as he faded out altogether. _

xxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx

**Twin Lakes, Upstate New York. **

Dean awoke with a groan that hiccuped into a thick cough, lifting a hand to his head as he risked opening his eyes, blinking rapidly against the brightness. His side and shoulder was throbbing savagely, his shirt glued to his skin with dried blood. The wounds were already healing, but the pain wasn't quite so willing to move on yet. His breathing wasn't so congested now, despite the scratchy throat that had Dean fighting not to cough. That pulled on his side too much and he was happy to avoid that if he could.

The scent of daisies filled Dean's senses, mixing with the thick, damp smell of soil and fertiliser. Just great, he was going to smell like a barbecued floral display. Not exactly how he had envisioned his day going.

His mouth tasted like ash; his clothes, his hair, his skin smelt like smoke. A smell he hated with a passion. A nice long shower again until the water ran cold was in order when Dean got back to that crappy house he was staying in. Then he was getting this job over and done with and going home to his family.

There a deep and painful sense of loneliness inside Dean now as he pushed himself to sit up at last. Sam wasn't there. Hell., who knew where Sam was? Dean could have kicked himself for not asking his brother that much, especially since his cell phone was lying back in the basement of Deidre Baskell's house. He had to trust that Elise was looking after Sam wherever they were, but that still did nothing to ease the sick feeling he had, just knowing that his little brother was hurt.

Sam was hurt, Skye was freaked and had almost lost the baby to Yellow Eyes…and Dean was still working on this damn job. Well that ended tonight.

Dean tugged at the one remaining glove he was wearing, dropping it to the ground as a hint of a smirk appeared, Sam's voice still ringing in his ears about it.

From the other side of the fence, he could hear the sound of the firemen working to make sure the fire was completely out. It would be a few hours yet before they combed through it all and Dean would have any chance of getting his hands on those last few paintings. Right now, the best he could do was head back and get cleaned up, check that nothing had disturbed the three paintings he already had in his possession…before sitting down and plotting out the plan to put them to rest once and for all.

Except how the hell was he getting passed a crowd of firemen in the state he was in, without being seen? Pushing himself slowly to his feet, Dean felt his entire body howling in protest. Muscles aching, joints popping, and wounds pulling. "I'm getting too old for this shit." Dean muttered, knowing that Sam would have rolled his eyes had he heard him.

Moving down the side of the house, keeping one ear trained for the slightest noise that would alert him to the fact the homeowner had spotted a dishevelled, half char-baked stranger in their yard, Dean spotted the answer to his problem. A Chevy Nova was parked in the drive, although it was hardly the sort of Chevy Dean wanted to be driving. This car wasn't even a poor cousin to his baby…it was more the sort of relation you refused to acknowledge.

Roughly an eighty-five model if Dean knew his cars -- and he did -- with a horrific olive green paint job that had been clearly done with a paintbrush. For all Dean knew, it was house paint they had used. But he was desperate enough to pop the driver's door and slide behind the wheel anyway. A quick check of the sun visor above his head, dropped a set of keys in his lap and Dean was soon turning over the engine. He backed out of the drive and left the scene without anyone even giving him a second glance.

Apparently his luck was starting to change at last.

_You'd better be alright, Sammy…I swear I will hunt you down and kick your ass otherwise. _Dean sent the thought out to his brother as he glanced in the rear view mirror. The Baskell house was behind him for now and despite what she had done? Dean was glad that she was basically cremated in the fire. Hopefully now she was at rest…and he wouldn't have to come back to deal with her ghost.

xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx

**The I-90 heading east, South Dakota**

"Sam?" Elise glanced sideways over to the passenger seat, trying not to let Sam's silence scare her. The effort it had taken, just to drag him to the Impala and get him inside it? Had left her shattered physically and it was only sheer adrenaline pushing Elise forward now as the miles flew past them. Mile upon mile of soft classic rock playing to keep her mind off the stinging throbbing pain that sat just beneath her makeshift bandages around her wrists. Her eyes felt gritty now, exhaustion making her reactions slower, forcing Elise to concentrate more and more just to keep them on the road. All she wanted to do was put as much distance between them and that farm house as she could. Away from the blood, the torture.

"Sam, please. Bloody well answer me…" Elise's voice was shaky as she spoke, verging on tears.

Sam's head was resting, eyes closed, against the cool glass of the passenger window, the soft light within the car showing just how pale he looked. There had been no sign of life from him other than the gentle rise and fall of his chest and Dean's name contained within a whispered breath.

"You know? Other girls might buy this whole strong, silent act, mate. But not me. So any time you want to join in on this conversation and stop me from talking your ear off? Go for it." Elise kept her eyes on the road again, noting various signs alerting her to the approaching town of Wall and it's various attractions. "Wall Drug, huh? I guess that would be a good place as any for us to stop. I could get some proper medical supplies, get us a motel room…maybe some cable tv and take out? What do you say?"

There was still no reply from Sam and Elise reached out with a hand that was trembling more than she wanted it to be, gently taking Sam's hand in hers. It was warm, reassuring her that he was still with her and Elise stifled a sob, feeling a tear slide down her cheek as she looked over at him. "No objections? Good. But you'd better not complain about the motel, mate. Not when you didn't bother voting…"

Bright white light filled the interior of the car, blinding Elise as she swung the wheel hard to the right, barely avoiding an approaching car. It's horn was screaming at her as they skimmed past. "Holy shit!!"

The Impala hit the soft shoulder of the road and dug in as Elise slammed the brakes on, feeling the muscle car buck and fight her through the wheel. She pulled it back onto the road, her grip white knuckled on the wheel until at last, they slid to a halt and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Right side, Elise, you moron…they drive on the right side here!" Her heart was racing, her breathing flighty and panicked as she leaned forward and smacked her head gently against the steering wheel. "Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

Straightening up, Elise blew out a breath to calm her nerves and looked over at Sam. His head was resting on his chest now, but he was still unconscious.

"No, no…it's fine, Sam. Not a scratch, I promise. You might want to think about getting Dean a set of new tyres though…" Elise eased the Impala into motion again, finding herself still shaking as the adrenaline wore off. "God, I wish you would bloody well wake up."

It was only a few more miles to the town of Wall. Elise could do this. She really could. No matter how many fleeting moments she had of wishing she was back home. No matter how much she missed her family. This wasn't Sam's fault. It was no one's fault really…except maybe for that bastard of a demon and right now? Elise hoped they had him roasting by the short and curlies over a nice hot fire for screwing it up and underestimating them. The sight of Sam with those dark, demonic eyes scared Elise deeply, but she also trusted her own judgement. Sam wasn't like Shepard…Andras, whatever the hell his name was, had said he was like. The sort of monster that Andras was talking about just didn't mesh with what she knew of Sam.

Was he a saint? Far from it. Elise had seen his darker side too. But there was still a sweetness to Sam. The man she knew was kind and sweet and gentle. He cared for his family and made Elise laugh and made her feel safer than anyone had ever made her feel before. That was Sam Winchester and no demon was going to convince Elise of anything else.

The lights of Wall were approaching fast, lighting up the road and finally giving Elise a reason to smile again. Hot showers, hot food…a bed. Her body was begging for all three right now, every burn, blister, bruise and bullet wound aching and throbbing in unison.

It was a Super 8 motel that became the pick of the draw, Elise idling the Impala up into a parking bay that wouldn't allow the office to see Sam in the passenger seat. She really didn't need the added questions. Reaching into the back seat and biting on her bottom lip to handle the pain sparking through her shoulder, Elise snagged hold of one of Sam's hoodies. It was huge on her when she slipped it on, but pulling the hood up helped to shield her cuts and bruises while the over sized sleeves hid her bandaged wrists.

"Okay…you stay here. I'll get us a room. And no playing with the radio. House…uhhh…shit, you know. Whatever it is Dean says." And now it was official that she was losing her mind. But Elise couldn't help but find it helped her to cope a little to just pretend Sam could hear her right now. "I'll be right back."

The instant Elise pushed open the door to the office and met the gaze of the bespectacled man behind the counter, she could see the questions forming on his lips. Oh this was a great start….

"You looking for a room, miss?" The name tag he was wearing gave his name as Jasper. His smile seemed kind, although a little strained at the edges.

"Uh, yeah…just for the night, thanks." Elise offered Jasper a tight smile. She was glad the hood was covering most of her face still, but there was no escaping the suspicion in the man's eyes. "I think if I try to drive any further? I'm likely to wrap myself around a bloody tree…"

"Tourist?"

"Huh?"

"Your accent…you're not exactly a local." Jasper ventured, trying to peer under the shadow of the hood to get a better look at Elise. "Where you from?"

"Oh…uh...Australia. Well, originally. I've been in the US for a while now, though…" Elise felt awkward but what was she supposed to do? Her accent wasn't exactly Midwestern.

"Since the attack?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Those global terrorist attacks…damn near put me out of business." Jasper grumbled, reaching under the counter and pulling out a ledger. He flipped to the appropriate page he wanted. "I've got four rooms free right now. You looking for anything in particular?"

"Just something quiet is fine, thanks."

"You're not bringing trouble here, are you?" Jasper peered over the rim of his glasses at Elise. "I'm not blind, you know." He indicated towards to bruising he had seen, the corner of a bandage peeking out from a sleeve.

"Oh…uh…no. No trouble, mate. Just a room for the night, that's all. Girl meets boy, boy's an abusive jerk, Girl packed her bags and left…" Elise gave a small shrug as she prayed that Jasper was buying her story.

Another heartbeat passed before Jasper turned and took a key from the wall behind him. "You're looking at eighty eight dollars for the night, for a queen. I can send up extra towels if you want them and there's an ice machine only a couple of doors down. Now is that cash or credit?"

"Cash."

Elise pulled Sam's wallet from her pocket, and discreetly slid enough bills from it to cover the room fee before she took the key from Jasper. "Thanks." Tucking the key into her pocket, Elise headed back out to the Impala, sliding behind the wheel again. Within a few moments she was parked outside their room. There was still no word from Sam, no movement save for his steady breathing.

A long, tired breath slid from Elise as she climbed out of the Impala and went to open the room for them. If she had to drag Sam inside, there was no way she wanted to try fiddling with the damn lock in the process. Her limbs were already aching and sore, a heavy tiredness settling over her down to the bone and making Elise wish she could just crawl into bed and never move again. Or at least, for a few days…

There was a slight creak of metal as Elise opened the Impala's passenger's door to get to Sam. She leaned in to try and get a good grip on Sam's shirt, hesitating slightly, her hands hovering a little as she worked out where to grab him without hurting him. If she screwed this up? They'd both end up on their asses in the parking lot.

"Where are we?"

The sound of Sam's voice startled Elise and she jumped, slamming her head on the roof of the Impala door frame as she jerked backwards. Her balance was shot to hell, dumping Elise onto her ass, the air exploding from her lungs in a gasp of surprise. One hand shot up to rub at the egg already starting to form on her head. "Bloody hell, Sam!"

Of course he would pick that moment to say something. After all the pleading on the long trip, the one way conversations. It was Murphy's Law and Elise was pretty sure right now that she'd kick Murphy's arse if she saw him.

"Sorry…I'm sorry.." Sam rolled himself slowly toward the door, offering a shaky hand to Elise.

"You're kidding right?"

"Huh? No…I really am sorry…" Sam's pale features folded up with a puzzled frown.

"Not that, you dickhead…that." Elise indicated towards the hand he had offered her. "You look ready to pass out and your going to help me up? Not that I don't appreciate the offer, Sam, but I don't need you falling on top of me in the middle of a car park."

A quiet snort of amusement came from Sam as he admitted to himself to Elise was right. He had no strength in his limbs at all. "So, where are we anyway?"

"The charming little town of Wall, South Dakota. Whatever that is." Elise could hear how weak Sam was by the weariness in his voice and she pushed herself up, dusting bits of gravel from her jeans before she looked around to see if anyone had seen their comedy routine. The parking lot remained empty, nothing but the sound of traffic from the highway and the babble of tv sets from behind closed doors floated on the air. Moving in again, Elise positioned herself to pull one of Sam's arm's around her shoulder as he pushed himself upright with a pained groan. "Alright, you ready for this?"

"No…" Sam blew out a breath and reached down with his free hand to close the Impala's door behind him. "But let's do it anyway."

It was like watching a drunk couple staggering home from a bar as Elise navigated Sam towards the motel room, praying he didn't suddenly buckle on them. She was only just able to handle the strain as it was, her back screaming at her with each step. But it was due to Sam pushing himself that Elise was able to get him to the room at all and from the trembling she could feel through his body, it was costing Sam heavily. "Alright….just a few…few more steps."

Sam's leg connected with the edge of the bed as they reached it and he cried out in pain, buckling at the knees and pitching forward onto the bed, dragging Elise with him. She was trapped in a sprawl of Sam's limbs, her cursing muffled by her face pressed to the mattress.

His arms shook from the effort of pushing himself up and disentangling himself from Elise, rolling over onto his back, his legs half off the bed as he tried to catch his breath. Sam's eyes had already slid closed by the time Elise had sat up.

"Sam?" Elise gently tapped his cheek. "Hey!"

Nothing.

"Well's that's just bloody great.." Elise sighed, laying a hand on his chest. "You're still paying for dinner, sleeping beauty…."

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxx**

**Twin Lakes, Upstate New York.**

It was funny really, how something as simple as a burger and fries, could taste like the best meal ever after nearly dying. Even as Dean could all but hear his arteries hardening with each greasy mouthful, it didn't stop the soft groans of sheer enjoyment he was making.

Long gone was the ruined suit and the smell of smoke. In their place, was the familiar leather jacket that Dean had worn for so long it was like part of his soul. A clean flannel shirt and t-shirt plus a well worn pair of jeans now covered the bandages Dean had replaced back at the abandoned house he had been staying in. His shoulder was tight and sore, as was his hip, heat radiating from wound as they healed. Neither of them had needed stitches, but there had been a lot of work in scraping out the dirt and dressing them.

But his hands were free of the tight leather gloves that he'd been wearing for the last few days, feeling like Rogue from the X-men…only less girly. A dribble of sauce ran down his hand from his burger and Dean actually grinned as he caught it with his tongue, revelling in the feeling of bare skin again. He felt more like himself than he had since the fire and now he was so close to ending this damn hunt and just going home at last.

He wanted to track down Sam and Elise, make them come back to Bobby's. He wanted to see Skye and know with his own eyes, that she was alright. That the baby was alright. Dean wanted to have a beer with his father and watch kid shows with Connor. He wanted to be home.

Earlier, just before sunset, Dean had found himself sat at a park, watching a family playing. It had caught his attention and held it for ages, just watching the two little kids running around on the swings and the see-saw, laughing and chasing each other while Mom and Dad sat near by, keeping an eye on them.

It took Dean back to his own childhood. Before the hunting, back when Sam was only a toddler and Dad had been more father than drill sergeant. Sammy would be sat in the sand box with a car or a shovel, while Dean would try to see how high he could go on the swings, pushing himself higher and higher to feel that wind in his face. Never worrying for a moment that anything would happen to him or Sammy, because Dad was sat only a few yards away and nothing would touch them while his father was near by.

His thoughts had drifted to his own family. Skye and Connor…the baby. He could never regret what he had done to give Skye back to Connor. That never entered his mind. But he regretted not being there to watch his baby grow up. Not being able to watch Connor grow up. Bobby had muttered once about how family was more than blood and Dean could see what he'd meant by that now. He was Connor's father in every way but blood and it hurt him to think of what he was leaving behind now.

But even if he wasn't going to be there to watch Connor and the baby grow up, Dean knew that Skye would watch over them like a hawk. As would his brother and father, even Bobby and Elise. An extended family like that was the safety barrier he needed to rely on in his absence. As long as he knew that Skye, Connor and the baby were going to be safe, he could go to Hell with his head held high.

Dean screwed up the wax paper his burger had been wrapped in and pitched it into the back seat of the horrid Chevy Nova he had stolen. Somehow he didn't think a greasy wrapper was going to do anything to make the car look any worse than it already did. He'd parked down the street from the Baskell house, on the opposite side to where he'd acquired this rust bucket from hell in the first place.

What was left of Deidre Baskell's once quaint little home, was now just a charred mess of wood, metal and melted glass. Yellow police tape had the whole area cordoned off and for the past half an hour, Dean had been waiting for the sole police car watching it, to leave. Finally, the patrol car rolled off down the street, answering a donut call or maybe a shift change? It was a small town, so Dean could never be entirely sure. Not that he cared. He just needed them gone.

The door squeaked as he opened it, a high pitched, metal on metal sound that made Dean physically flinch and glance around quickly to see if anyone had peeked their head out to see what the hell was screaming. But nope, the street remained quiet, with only street lights and the soft glow from various houses illuminating the street at all.

Keeping to the shadows, Dean slipped across the street and ducked under the yellow police tape, holding it up with hand. The smell of smoke and charcoal was overwhelming as he moved up towards the house and carefully stepped through the rubble. His usual boots were more adept to handling the slippery rubble, allowing Dean to place each foot with surety, grabbing hold when he needed to maintain his balance as he descended into the darkness. Once he was sure no one would see, Dean pulled out a small torch and flashed it around carefully, looking for the paintings. There was no way they would have burnt up in here. Not when the other three were now sitting in the trunk of the Nova.

For one brief moment, it crossed Dean's mind that he would have been buried in amongst all this if Sam hadn't woken him up. He'd have to call his brother from a pay phone when this job was done. Dean needed to know he was alright before he went home. Not that he didn't trust Sam to look after himself, Dean just needed to know. It was that simple.

The torchlight sifted through the darkness, skimming over the blackened remains of furniture and beams, until it found what Dean needed. Two paintings were lying together, pinned by rubble. It was amazing to see them completely unharmed as Dean dug them free and looked at them. A sorrowful little boy…and another one that looked downright pissed if Dean was honest about it. Two down….one to go.

It took another twenty minutes of careful climbing and searching through all that was left of what had once been the home to the Baskells, for Dean to find the last painting. A little girl who looked at miserable as all the others. "Yeah, well, maybe we can make you smile at last, huh?" Dean muttered quietly as he brushed away the soot and debris.

Dean tucked the painting under his arm and looked over towards what used to have been the front door. The house had sank into the basement thanks to the intense heat of the fire and now he was faced with climbing up yet again to where he had already left the other painting. It was causing the bandages to shift and bunch up as sweat slid down Dean's face. There was no two ways about it. Hunting alone sucked. It always had. Harkening back those dark days when Dean hunted alone because things were tense between them in Sam's absence. Or New Orleans where Dean had gone to do a job…only to find that his father had slipped off the map while he was gone.

Dean shook himself mentally and got his mind back on the task at hand, climbing up and out the house with little difficulty but a lot of effort. By the time he reached the front yard, he had to take a brief moment to catch his breath and push away the pain washing through his body from his healing burns. He had the last three paintings. This was going to be over and no other families had to die for the sake of Sean Baskell's memory.

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxxx**

**Cedarville, Upstate New York**

The Cedarville Children's Home sat shrouded in darkness as Dean pulled the Chevy Nova over and found a place to park that would keep him hidden…at least he hoped it would. Car theft, breaking and entering plus stolen paintings involved in a series of fatal house fires? He would be beyond screwed if someone called the cops on him.

The paintings were all sat in the backseat now, strapped together with a leather belt so that Dean could carry them all at once. He wasn't keen on trying to navigate the shaky, unsafe floors of the dormitory, anymore than he had to.

The Nova's door screeched again as Dean climbed out, sounding like the equivalent of nails down a chalkboard to him and setting his teeth on edge. He shot the Nova a venomous glare as he slammed the door shut. This was karma or something. It had to be. Some sort of cosmic payback for giving his beloved Impala to Sam.

Wrenching open the back door of the Nova, his mood rapidly souring, Dean picked up the small tin of lighter fluid from the seat and slide it into his pocket. He grabbed the paintings next, slinging the excess strap from the belt over his shoulder as he straightened up. The combined weight of all the frames pulled on his shoulder as he used his hip to nudge the door shut behind him.

"This had better freaking work, cause I'm not hauling your asses all over the place." Dean grumbled to himself as he walked towards the dormitory this all started in. The plan seemed simple enough. Burning all the paintings together in the building the children had originally died in, was supposed to finally end all this trouble. There were no bones to burn. No remains…except the paintings.

Dean paused in the doorway of the dormitory, flicking on his torch and taking in the large room before him with the thin bright beam. The room was essentially empty, any furniture having either burned up in the fire or been taken away afterwards. But the floor was pockmarked with deep charred holes that Dean would have to navigate to get these paintings inside. It had been bad enough before with his Dad, but at least then if he'd fallen through the floor, he would have had someone there who could help haul his ass back up again.

_Quit your bitching, Winchester and just get the fucking job done already. _Dean gave himself a mental kick in the ass and lugged the paintings inside. Each step bowed under foot, the floor creaking and groaning in ways that had Dean's gut tensed, just waiting for that loud snap before he'd probably fall and break his legs…or his back. His luck hadn't exactly been favourable lately.

Another twenty or so feet into the dormitory, Dean slid the paintings off his back and placed them on the ground. There was no X marks the spot here. No map to pinpoint the perfect placing for these paintings. Dean just had to hope having them in the room itself was enough.

He pulled out the lighter fluid and squirted it's content all over the paintings, trying not to look at the sad little faces. This was the right thing. These kids were dead already and now no one else had to die either. "Alright…let's end this, huh?"

"Why?"

"Whoa!" Dean stepped back quickly as the ghostly figure of the pissed off little boy he had seen at the Baskell's, appeared before him.

"Why did you bring us here?" Nicky stepped forward, his fingers blazed into life, the flames rolling and sliding over his skin as if they were alive. "You want to hurt us! Everyone wants to hurt us!"

"I'm here to help you, dude." Dean held his hands up to try and placate the kid, taking another step backwards. Beneath him, the floor groaned and sagged. One wrong step and Dean was going clean through the timber.

"No-one helped us! They left us to die! Then they broke us up! No one cares about us!" Nicky yelled, the flames threatening to drip from his hands and ignite the lighter fluid. Behind him, the other children appeared, holding onto each other as they watched Nicky's temper unfold.

"Yeah? Well I do." Dean stopped backing up and held his ground in that moment. His heart was racing in his chest, his breathing faster that he would have liked. But his words had the effect Dean had been hoping for as Nicky cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at him in question.

"Why? Why would you care?"

"Cause you're just kids. You didn't deserve that. No one deserves that. And I know what it means to lose your family. I know how scary it is to be alone and how you have to look after the people you have left, okay? I know that. So let me do this right now. Let me end this. No one else has to go through the pain we've known…" Dean watched Nicky carefully, trying to read the kid. "Come on, kid…I just want to go home to my own family."

The flames died out on Nicky's hands as the rage seemed to melt away from his features, leaving behind a wide eyed, sweet faced little boy who would have been an absolute heart breaker when he was alive. "I wanna go home too…" He turned and walked back to the paintings were the other five children were all waiting, sliding their arms around each other in a group hug.

Dean drew a lighter from his jeans pocket and lit it, watching the group of children for a heartbeat before he threw the lighter and ignited the paintings. The children hugged each other tightly as a soft glow began to emanate from them all, growing brighter and brighter as it began to break up and rise to the ceiling like sparks.

The flames started to catch more and more, spilling out from the paintings, setting the floor alight around them. Smoke was starting to fill the dormitory and Dean knew it was time for him to get out of there.

Hot footing it back over the room wasn't easy and just as he was about to reach the doorway, the floor creaking and buckling around him, Dean felt the boards under his feet give way altogether and he dived for open doorway. Tumbling into a clumsy commando roll, Dean came to a rest outside on his back, staring up at the night sky that was already filling with smoke as he tried to catch his breath. His shoulder was aching, his hip filled with liquid fire that told him he had probably undone his earlier work of patching the wounds up. But there would be time to deal with them later. The fire was going to attract attention soon and he wanted to be long gone.

A weary groan slipped from Dean as he pushed himself to his feet and made his way out of the fenced off area, even if he was a little unsteady still.

Within minutes, the Chevy Nova was roaring away from the Cedarville Children's Home as flames filled the rear view mirror. The rest of the dormitory was going to collapse before the fire was put out.

Dean gave it one last glance before he put his foot down more, feeling the battered Nova's engine rattle in complaint at first before it coughed and surged forward. His duffle bag was already in the back, there was nothing at the house to go back for.

It was over.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxx**

**5 hours later….Jamestown, New York State.**

Voicemail…again. Dean was almost tempted to hang up, wondering if that voicemail meant that something had happened to Sam's phone? If something had happened to Sam? No…he couldn't think like that.

Huffing out a sigh as he heard the tone, Dean left his message. "Hey, Sammy. You taking lessons off Dad, dude? Look, I just wanted you to know it's done, man. The paintings are toast. I'm coming home and you'd better damn well be there, you hear me? Don't make me come looking for my ride, dude. And get her detailed for me --"

The message cut off and Dean slammed the receiver in frustration. He'd sounded like a complete douche. Slotting another coin into the payphone, Dean called again and continued his message after the tone, clearing his throat awkwardly. "You saved me back there, Sammy. I don't know how…but you had my back when I needed you. You always have done. Look, just call Dad, okay? Tell him you're okay, tell him I'm okay and coming home. I'll see you soon, Sam."

Dean hung up the phone then, staring at the phone for a moment and contemplating calling Bobby's to see if they were home from the hospital yet. His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the payphone for a moment more, before he decided against it. Heading home was the best option. He pushed open the pay phone door and stepped out into the night, feeling from the chill in the still air and figuring it had to early morning.

Dean slid in behind the wheel of the Nova and revved the engine, roaring away from the truck stop he had stopped at for coffee.

There was a lot of driving ahead of him, but as Dean found a radio station playing Aerosmith, a grin appeared. His head started bopping to the strains of Love In An Elevator as every passing mile seemed to make him feel lighter.

**xxxxXXXXXXxxxx**


	10. All That Matters

_A/N: Well, I've managed to update a little sooner, but the chapter is smaller than my last one. I'm breaking things down a little just because it's easier for me to get chapters out sooner. As always, a HUGE shoutout to Tara and Deb for thier tireless help in reading before I post to tell me if it's crap, not to mention all the whip cracking. LOL And another shoutout to Manda (Pallina) for her boundless excitement over my 'verse. It's that sort of encouragement from my friends that make this so much more fun!_

_Thanks also to everyone who reviews! You guys rock and feed the muse!! Now, on with the show!_

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Wall, South Dakota.**

Warm. It was the one single word that crossed Sam's mind as he slowly clawed his way back through the cobwebs of sleep. He was warm and there was someone lying beside him. It was as much as he wanted to think about at that moment, knowing that as he awoke, his body was going to remind him in Sen surround, just what it had been through the day before.

Elise had gotten him out of his clothes somehow, leaving him in just a pair of boxers, the feel of her bare skin against his, familiar and safe.

Bandages scratched on his arms and legs, pulling gently on the bite wounds underneath if he moved at all. But he couldn't stay lying there either. His stomach was rolling…threatening to crawl up his throat and choke him.

Sliding his arm free from Elise, Sam tumbled from the bed, hitting the floor on his hands and knees, shaking. He crawled towards the bathroom, feeling like a new born colt, all legs and unsteadiness.

"Sam?" Elise sat up, pulling the sheet around her. "Jesus, Sam…hold on." She tried to wrap the sheet around her as she got to her feet and went after him.

Sam had slipped down to his elbows now, trembling from the effort it had taken him to get that far. Pain was blazing through his limbs like wildfire, driving his nausea closer and closer to erupting violently and messily.

Slipping around Sam, Elise grabbed the only thing she could find that was going to help at all. The waste paper basket from the bathroom. Thrusting it under Sam's head in time as his stomach lurched up and emptied out into the basket beneath him.

Turning her head away to give him a little privacy, she rubbed his back, feeling helpless and hating that he had to go through this. They had gotten away. They were safe, but it was still going to take Sam time to recover from what Andras had put him through.

After a moment, Sam found himself groaning as he was reduced to nothing but dry heaving, his stomach unable to bring up what it didn't contain in the first place. He was shaking, feeling as weak as a kitten as he sagged to the floor beside the waste paper basket. His arms were still wrapped around it in case he needed it again.

"Just catch your breath, okay? I'll help you back to the bed in the minute." Elise brushed the hair back from his face. He was warm to the touch and the lack of sweat on him had Elise sick with worry. It wasn't to the point it had been in Medicine Bow. Sam wasn't in danger of having a seizure, but the dehydration was obvious still. All Elise could do for him right now, was get him comfortable and get some fluids and food into him at least.

"I'm sorry…"

"For what? Spewing? It's not the first time I've seen that, Sam…I have a brother, you know." Elise teased quietly, trying to lighten things a little.

"You don't deserve this. Not after everything-- " Sam began, his voice dry and strained.

"You try finishing that sentence, Sam and I'll kick your fucking arse."

"What?" Sam forced himself to roll over enough to see Elise's face.

"You heard me. You are not starting that bullshit with me. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not fucking next week. I'm not listening to it." Elise was sat on the floor beside him now, her legs crossed, gently holding her ankles.

"Elise…"

"What? You want me to say it? Okay…I'll say it. You scared the shit out of me back there, Sam."

"I know." Sam turned away again, swallowing back the sour taste in his mouth as an emptiness filled him. He had never wanted to scare Elise. She was the one thing that was going right in his life right now while he felt that everything was spinning out of control with Dean's deal coming due soon. But what had he expected? Sam still remembered how Dean had tried to hide his fear when Sam first started having visions. That was nothing compared to what Sam could do now and Elise had been to witness to most of it. He was amazed that he hadn't woken up alone this morning. She owed him nothing. All he had done, was bring her trouble and pain.

"Sam." Elise reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling how warm and dry the bare skin felt. "Sam, look at me." She gently eased him back towards her so she could see his face, her heart clenching as she saw the distraught look on his face. "You scared me the first time we met, remember? Pinned me to the wall, Darth Vader style?"

There was the faintest, briefest twitch at the corner of Sam's mouth that could have been the beginning of a smile before it slipped away. How could Sam ever forget that? He had been so lost, drowning in darkness over the loss of Dean; when this brash, in his face girl had attached herself to him and all but crawled under his skin. But their first meeting? Had definitely not been the sort of thing you bragged about to people. He could have killed Elise.

And yet she was still here.

"Come on, I don't know about you? But my bum is getting numb sitting on this floor. How about we get you into bed, huh?" Elise got to her feet, then held out her hand to Sam.

"You can't pull me up." Sam looked at Elise like she was crazy.

"True, but I can guide you towards the bed at least?" Her hand went to his shoulder as he rolled himself back to his knees with a weary groan. Sam forced himself to his feet, feeling Elise's arm slide around his waist. They stumbled towards the bed like a pair of sailors navigating a ship's deck in a storm.

Sam sank down to the bed as soon as he was within reach, finding the cheap mattress sheer heaven compared to the floor he had been lying on. Elise kept the sheet wrapped around her as she walked to the small kitchenette and grabbed a glass of water for Sam.

"Here…you need this." Elise waited until Sam had taken the glass before she carefully sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

Sam tried not to gulp the water, common sense and experience telling him that it was a bad idea, but his mouth was like a desert being kissed by the first drops of rain in a decade and he had downed half the glass before he choked and coughed. His stomach muscles cramped up on him, pain drawing tight lines around his eyes and mouth as he doubled over, thrusting the glass towards Elise.

"Shit! Sam!" Elise dropped the glass beside her, hearing the dull thud as it hit the carpet and split the last of its contents without smashing.

Holding up one hand, Sam wrapped the other one around his stomach until the cramps eased and he was able to sink back against the pillow behind him. "I'm okay…it's okay…"

"Are you trying to give me grey hairs?" Elise demanded.

A short, huffing laugh left Sam as he looked at her, his lids half closed, exhaustion tugging at his body. "Sorry."

"Yeah, well…you'll keep, mate." Elise smiled, cupping a hand to his face.

Sam closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch, hearing a ghost from the past in his head. "_What would I do without you?"_

"_Crash and burn?"_

His heart ached at the memory of Jess, still. How sweet she had been, how his whole life had been mapped out with her. Opening his eyes again, he saw Elise watching him and gave her a smile, unsure of what he had done to deserve a girl like her by his side, but grateful for every minute they shared when it had once seemed that he was never going to be allowed to know love like this again.

Wrapped gauze caught Sam's eye then and instantly, his smile bled away as he sat up, gently grasping Elise's hand to examine the bandages hanging loosely around her wrist. "Oh god, your wrists! How the hell could I forget about that?"

"It's fine, Sam…I've got it covered."

"No. No, it's not fine. Not at all, Elise. He hurt you because of me. This is my fault. Grab the first aid kit and I'll make sure these blisters don't get infected. You can't bandage something like this one handed." His gaze was full of concern as he looked at her. "Let me look after you for a moment, okay?"

"Oh…okay." Elise nodded, hearing her voice catch in her throat as she spoke. "Sure, I can do that."

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

The Impala idled like a contented tiger outside the motel room as Elise pulled up. She sat there for a moment, letting the engine tick over before she shut it off and sat in silence. Several bottles of Pedialyte sat on the seat beside her along several tins of chicken soup.

Before she had left for the store, Elise had checked that Sam was sleeping peacefully, then went back to the office and paid for them to stay a few more days. Jasper had been polite and even given Elise a genuine smile as he had enquired if she was alright. It had been a simple polite moment between strangers, but it still helped to lift Elise's mood too after everything she had been through.

Now as she sat inside the Impala, staring out at the motel room door before her, Elise's gaze drifted to the bandages peeking out from her shirt sleeves. The gauze had been wrapped securely and she was comfortable at last. Burn cream had been gently smoothed over the blistered skin by Sam's hesitant touch. Everything about him in that moment as Sam had tended to her burns, showed Elise that the Sam Winchester she had loved was still there. The darkness hadn't claimed him, no matter what Andras had tried to convince Sam of.

His touch had been feather light, Sam's intense gaze watching everything he did, every reaction he received from Elise. The slightest change in her breathing was enough to make him pause and hesitant, before he would start again. By the time Sam had finished, he was exhausted and had sank back into the bed without barely saying a word, fighting to keep his eyes open. There was a distance in his eyes, as though Sam was withdrawing into himself and Elise didn't know how to get through to him that he didn't need to hide from her. That she wasn't scared of him and that she didn't blame him for what had happened.

With a quiet sigh, Elise switched off the Impala's engine, then picked up the bag off the seat and prepared to head inside. A soft beep echoed in the stillness of the car, catching Elise's attention and making her hand pause on the door. How had she missed that before? And what the hell was it?

The beep sounded again after a moment, coming from the back seat of the muscle car. Elise peered over to see Sam's jacket sitting in the back seat and dragged it towards her, finding his phone tucking into one of the pockets. There was voicemail waiting for Sam.

Elise slid the phone back into the pocket, tucked the jacket under her arm and climbed out of the Impala, closing the door with one hip as she juggled the bag of groceries. It was another small juggling act to get the key in the room door without dropping the jacket before Elise slipped inside.

Sam stirred and opened his eyes just as Elise sat the bag of groceries down on the kitchenette counter. "Hey…how long was I asleep?"

"Maybe an hour? It's no big deal, Sam. You needed the sleep, I needed the fresh air…and look, I came back with breakfast." Elise pulled out a tin of soup and held it up for Sam to see. "Not at good as what my Nan can make from scratch? But hey, I burn toast…so you're getting off light."

"Soup's fine…really." Sam nodded with a half hearted smile as he eased him up into a sitting position. "Is…is that my jacket?"

"Oh, shit…I nearly forgot. Your phone was beeping in the car, you've got voicemail." Elise gently tossed the jacket to Sam and set about heating up the soup for him in the room's microwave.

Sam dialled his voicemail, expecting to hear his father or Bobby's voice. But instead it was Dean.

"_Hey, Sammy. You taking lessons off Dad, dude? Look, I just wanted you to know it's done, man. The paintings are toast. I'm coming home and you'd better damn well be there, you hear me? Don't make me come looking for my ride, dude. And get her detailed for me --" _

Sam snorted with amusement as he heard his brother's demands, rolling his eyes tiredly at how Dean would never change. Not that Sam ever wanted him to. The robotic voice of the voicemail service informed him there was another message waiting as Sam hit the button to hear it. He heard Dean clearing his throat before he began speaking and a pang of loneliness hit him for a moment as Sam realised how much he missed not having his brother with him.

"_You saved me back there, Sammy. I don't know how…but you had my back when I needed you. You always have done."_

Sam felt his throat closing up then, his heart starting to ache. Their bond, his desperate plea for Dean to wake up while he was surrounded by smoke. It had worked! Dean really was alright and it was because Sam had reached out to him. It made Sam all the more determined to save his brother from the deal. More determined than ever to prove demons like Andras and Azazel wrong.

"_Look, just call Dad, okay? Tell him you're okay, tell him I'm okay and coming home. I'll see you soon, Sam." _

Sam closed his phone, swallowing back his emotions as Elise came to sit down on the bed beside him.

"Everything okay?"

"It was Dean…he's heading home. He's okay." Sam managed quietly, smiling as Elise slid her hand over his.

"What about you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah…yeah, I'm good." Sam nodded after a moment, his smile now brighter, more genuine. "I'm gonna call Dad. Tell him we're okay, let him know about Dean and…let him know we're coming home in a few days."

"Good." Elise leaned forward and kissed the tip of Sam's nose, smiling as she felt Sam's arms slide around her and drawing her into a tight embrace. Her arms slid around Sam as she nestled in against his neck, feeling that things were going to be alright again. Sam was finding his way back and Elise wasn't letting him go.

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

**Somewhere outside Aurora, Illinois. **

It was far too freaking light when Dean opened his eyes and greeted the world, only to find he had the mother of all back aches. The Chevy Nova was anything but comfortable to sleep in. A tired groan echoed up from deep within as Dean sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. Food. Food was a good idea right now…and copious amounts of coffee to erase the feeling of being road kill. Elbowing the door open, his mood as sour as the taste in his mouth, Dean stumbled from the car and looked around him.

The truck stop he had pulled into, half dead from exhaustion, was now bustling with life as people came and went about their business. Trucks were pulling in for fuel or hitting the road again, horns blaring at each other and driving nails into Dean's head each time.

At least, that was how it damn well felt thanks to the grinding headache he was sporting. A nasty lingering reminder of all the smoke he had inhaled and the crappy sleep he'd had. Dean slammed the Nova's door closed and walked over the to Men's room, finding the fading lighting in there a little easier on his eyes than the bright sunlight outside.

The bathroom had seen better days, but it was tidier than some Dean had been inside before. He washed his face and stared at his grizzled reflection in the mirror, holding up his hands and looking at the nearly healed skin on them. It was good to have the gloves off at last and not see stark, pink skin. Hopefully the rest of his body would be healed up soon too and he could stop feeling like a circus freak. Half man, half mummy with all the bandages he was wearing.

Another 12 or so hours…less if he really pushed himself, and Dean would be home. Singer's Auto Yard. The closest thing to home that Dean had known for a good portion of his life. Or at the very least, a stable address that wasn't a post office box.

But now it was more than that. Now it was more than a safe haven where Bobby would heal them up or give them what they needed to finish a hunt. Now it was home. Now it was the one place in the world that had everything Dean wanted. Family.

The thought of being home and curled up in Skye's arms, hearing Connor's bubbling little laugh and feeling his baby moving was driving Dean now.

He dried his hands on his jeans and headed out of the Men's room. Breakfast and coffee…then he was back on the road and pushing that crappy Nova for every last mile she would give him.

**xxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxxx**

**Kyle, South Dakota.**

Bobby didn't know how the hell he got suckered into doing the damn job. He tried to rub his nose with his arm to sate the itch that had been building for the last couple of minutes, muttering under his breath about this being the reason he bought things at the damn store.

A cascade of delighted laughter met his ears a moment later and he looked down beside him to see Connor's face lit up with amusement. The kid was covered with flour, butter and sugar which he was happy to lick at between giggles.

"What?" Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow at the little boy. "There's flour on my nose, isn't there?"

"Uh huh." Connor nodded before he clapped a hand over his mouth and giggled again. The little boy had been following Bobby and John around all morning, following their strict instructions on not disturbing his Mom so that she could rest and help the baby. Connor didn't know why something had been wrong with his Mommy's baby, but Uncle Bobby and Poppy had said that everything would be okay, so he trusted them. They wouldn't say it if it wasn't true.

But after a little while of watching Poppy pace the house and read books that had scary looking pictures on the front of them, Connor had gotten bored and gone looking for Uncle Bobby, finding him working on his cars in the yard. It had only taken a solid fifteen minutes of pestering, before he had convinced Bobby to help him cook some cookies because all the Oreo's were gone.

Which is how Bobby had come to find himself up to his elbows in flour while Connor laughed at him. He reached out and wiped a smear of cookie batter from the kid's chin, finding himself chuckling. It had been a long time since there had been children in his house and Bobby was beginning to realise how much he had missed it. Even if he had to become a short order cookie baker. Martha Stewart he wasn't…

"So…you think we're ready to put them in the oven?"

"Yup!" Connor grinned excitedly.

"Alright, you stay back now. I don't want you getting burnt. Your Mom would tear me a new one…" Bobby grinned as he picked up the tray of cookies.

"A new one?" Connor cocked his head to the side in puzzlement, reminding Bobby of Sam at that age. "What 'rong with tha ol' one?"

Bobby couldn't hold back his laughter then, almost burning his own fingers as he slid the tray into the oven and closed the door. "Never you mind about the old one…or the new one for that matter."

The phone started ringing then, saving Bobby from needing to explain himself any further. It was the personal line that was ringing, not one of the various decoy lines Bobby had hooked up to the house for the purpose of providing "official" backup to the boys or any other hunter that looked to him for help from time to time. In a few short strides, Bobby had crossed the floor and scooped up the receiver. "Yeah?"

"_Bobby? It's Sam.."_

"Sam? Bout time you rang, boy, your Dad's about to start leaving a furrow in my living room with all his damn pacing."

"Is that Dean?" John appeared in the doorway, his wings tucked in behind him, but relaxed. It had taken a few hours of flying late last night for John to work the kinks out and relieve the pain he had been in while they were strapped down. Now the inky black appendages were gently rising and falling behind him in unison with his breathing.

"It's Sam." Bobby cupped a hand over the mouthpiece as he turned to face John.

"Unca Sam!" Connor shouted then, jumping up and down on the spot excitedly as the name became almost a mantra. "Unca Sam! Unca Sam! Unca Sam!" The bouncing continued until John passed Connor and gently placed a hand on the little boy's head to try and quieten him down.

"Let me talk to him." John held his hand out to Bobby.

"Your Dad wants to say hi, Sam." Bobby drawled dryly before he handed the phone over to John and stepped aside. He'd start answering as the Winchester's personal secretary at this rate cause it wasn't like anyone damn well rang for him anymore. Bobby left John to his call and walked over to Connor, picking the little boy up. "Come on…let's get you cleaned up while the cookies are baking huh?"

"Wanna watch preddy lady…" Connor informed Bobby chirpily.

"Pretty lady huh? Again?"

"Yup! Gwease! Wanna watch Gwease!!"

"Okay, okay…But I ain't gonna be the one to explain to Dean why you've got an addiction to Olivia Newton John." Bobby shook his head as they disappeared up the hallway.

"_Dad?"_

John felt as though his heart could finally beat properly again, hearing his youngest son's voice down the line. "You okay, Sam? Is Elise with you?"

"_Yeah, Elise is here. We're okay. We just…we'll be home in a few days, Dad. When things have calmed down a little more." _

"Where are you?"

"_Dad, we're okay…"_

"That's not what I asked, Sam. I want to know where you are." John ordered.

"_You mean like all those months we had no idea where to find you, Dad?" _

It was a low blow, but a well deserved one. John would never forget all those desperate, pleading messages he had been left by both boys while he was gone, trying to keep them safe as he hunted down the Demon. It had been a move that had scarred both boys, but John had played what was the best hand at the time. He could hardly expect Sam not to do the same. But the boy had picked a hell of a time to follow in his footsteps.

"_It's just a few days, Dad. And we're not that far from you. That's all I'll give you right now. I'm doing this to protect you as well as Elise. It's best if no one knows where we are."_

"Why? Did something happen? Are you hurt?" John had picked up the underlying strain in Sam's voice at the start of the conversation but had kept silent, trusting his son to be able to handle himself. But now his concern was growing by the minute, a cold pit forming in his stomach. "Sam?"

"_A demon tracked us down--"_

"Dammit, Sam!" John snapped, cursing himself for ever letting his son go alone.

"_I dealt with it, Dad. It's okay."_

"Dealt with it? What the hell does that mean?" John heard Sam sigh on the other end and could just imagine the eye rolling that went with that sound.

"_Just. Trust. me. The demon is taken care of." Sam repeated, clearly starting to lose his patience before he went with a change of subject. "Look, Dean called me." _

"What? When?"

"_Last night. Left me a couple of voice mails to say that the hunt was taken care of and that he's coming home. He wanted me to let you know."_

John closed his eyes for a moment and silently thanked Mary for watching over their boys. He wanted nothing more than to have them both home and in front of him so he could see they were safe with his own eyes. "Good…that's good."

"_How's Skye? The baby?" _

"She's fine…wait, how'd you know?"

"_Dean's been worried about her…really worried." _

"Right." John wondered just how far the psychic bond between his boys would go? They already had a heightened connection even without the demon blood. A bond that had been borne out of fire and a drive to protect each other. Sam and Dean had merely taken that connection to the next level now.

"_I've gotta go, Dad. Tell Skye to hang in there and don't worry about us, okay? I'll see you in a few days."_ The call ended a moment later.

"Is that Dean?"

John hung up the phone and turned, frowning as he saw Skye standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "You're supposed to be resting in bed, Skye."

"I heard the phone. Was it Dean?" Skye folded her arms across her chest. A series of small kicks to her arms told her that the baby didn't appreciate her arms sitting over her belly, but the feeling was welcome after the last 48 hours.

"It was Sam. He'll be home in a few days with Elise."

"He found her?" Skye couldn't help but smile then. She should have known that Sam wouldn't have failed. Not when it came to Elise. It was good to know that they were together again and she couldn't wait to see them. It had become a lot lonelier for Skye after Elise was arrested. They had bonded into a solid friendship and Skye missed her presence. Now that she knew Elise was safe from being deported…a few more days didn't seem like much of an ask, really.

"Sam also said Dean called him. The hunt's over, he's on his way home." John watched carefully to see what sort of reaction he would receive.

Skye nodded and rubbed her arms after a moment, clearly fighting to rein in her emotions. "Thank god…" She just wanted to see Dean. To know he was safe and to ask him what the hell had happened with that girl. The baby kicked again and Skye placed a hand on her belly, feeling a deep ache in her heart as she thought of Dean. The deal was coming closer and closer with each passing day and Skye was all too aware that they hadn't found a way out of it yet. What if they didn't? Being apart from Dean during this hunt had been horrible. The loneliness, the fear of what could be happening to him had nestled deep inside Skye and wasn't going to leave until she had him back in her arms. Now the deal was hanging over their heads more and more and Skye was terrified to think she could lose Dean forever.

"Skye, you need to be resting." John pushed gently.

"I know what I need, John." Skye snapped irritably. She brought a hand up and massaged the bridge of her nose, telling herself to take a calming breath. An apologetic look followed a moment later. "Sorry…I just…I'm on edge. I need to know he's okay."

"I know. And right about now? I'll guarantee that you're all he's thinking about too. So get back upstairs and rest." John ordered firmly. He crossed the room and gently took Skye by the arm, turning her around towards the stairs. " I mean it. You need to rest for the baby. Let me worry about Dean okay? He's going to be fine."

The look in John's eyes told Skye he wasn't just talking about now, but the deal as well.

"Alright…I'm going." Skye scowled half heartedly as she headed back upstairs.

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

It was a little after one in the morning, when the Chevy Nova coughed and rolled it's way through the gates of Singer's Auto Yard at last. The temperature gauge had been heading towards the red for the last hour and Dean knew the car was going to be toast by the time he shut off the engine. Not that it mattered, the horrid green Nova was going to fit in well with the other junkers in this yard.

With a final shuddering sigh, the engine died outside the house. Dean pushed open the driver's door and climbed out with a groan. His ass was numb, his spine stiff and painful. If there had ever been any suspension in the Nova? It had died long before Dean had stolen it. Knowing his luck, it was probably karma for daring to drive another freaking Chevy.

The absence of the Impala in the yard hit him hard and he wondered where Sam was right now? The kid had to be okay, right? Dean would know if anything had happened to him? If he was in trouble? He wasn't exactly a psychic wonder like his brother, but Dean would still know. That much he was sure of after everything that had happened lately. Sam was probably tuned into his thoughts right now and Dean smirked as he thought of his favourite porno, wishing he could see the look of Sam's face right then.

As he headed for the porch, a shadowy figure was standing there, waiting for Dean. He began to reach for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans, when the soft rustle of feathers had him relaxing again.

"You had us all worried." John stepped out from the shadows, letting the soft light from the moon illuminate his face.

"Yeah…sorry." Dean lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "I lost my phone."

"But you're okay?"

Dean could see the cat-like glow from his father's eyes as he studied Dean thoroughly, looking for signs of new injuries. "I'm fine, Dad. Nothing a shower and a week's worth of sleep won't cure." He walked up onto the porch, pausing as his father laid a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed.

"It's good to have you home, son." John smiled before he stepped aside to let Dean past him. "Head on up to bed. You can fill me in tomorrow morning. I'm going to stay up a while longer…"

"Yes sir." Dean nodded tiredly, feeling utterly washed out now that he was home and could let down his guard at last. The house was quiet inside as he entered. No tv, no music, not even Bobby snoring…which meant he was in his room and not sleeping in his armchair for once.

The stairs were easily climbed as Dean skipped over the boards that were bound to squeak and wake everyone if he wasn't careful. His back was a little looser by the time he reached the top and made his way to his bedroom, his heart picking up pace, knowing that Skye was asleep just beyond that door. Grasping the doorhandle, Dean turned it slowly, moving ever so slowly, so he would be quiet. But the sight that greeted him wasn't of one figure sleeping in the bed…but two. Connor was curled up in there too and Dean couldn't stop the smile that broke out as he saw that little blonde head just above the blankets. He crept over and carefully scooped Connor up in his arms, amazed at how heavy a kid could be at his age. Connor was limp, his mouth open slightly as he continued snoring.

Dean crept across the hallway to where the nursery was. There were only so many rooms in Bobby's house and it had been decided long before, that Connor would also benefit from sharing the protections they had painted around the room. His bed and toys were tucked in along the far wall. Dean slid Connor under the covers and placed a hand gently on his forehead, his thumb brushing Connor's fringe.

"Daddy?" A set of bright blue eyes flickered open to stare sleepily at Dean.

"Hey little dude…shhh. You'll wake everyone up. It's late. Go back to sleep, okay?" Dean whispered.

"See ya inna morning?" Connor said quietly, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere. Close your eyes, I'll see you when you wake up. I promise." Dean assured him, brushing his hair back once more before he stood up. Connor nodded and rolled over, snuggling deeper into the covers.

Dean made sure that Connor was asleep before he left the room and snuck back to his own room. He peered around the door, half expecting to find Skye awake and waiting for him, but she was still asleep, buried under the blankets.

He slid his jacket and shirt off, letting them drop to the floor, before he unbuckled his jeans and tentatively slid them down over his bandages. Sitting down on the edge of the bed in just his boxers, Dean leaned over to unlace his boots when he felt a warm hand brush across the bare skin of his back. He leaned back into it a little, then turned to see Skye smiling at him.

"Hey stranger…"

"Hey yourself. I moved Connor back to his room, hope that's okay?" Dean smiled back. It froze and melted away a moment later as he watched Skye sit up, her gaze drifting down to the bandages swathing his lowering body, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"How bad is it?"

Dean glanced down at the bandages and shrugged. "Better than it was. Seriously, I'm okay, they're almost healed up."

Skye stretched out in the bed again as Dean finished kicking off his boots and jeans before he slid under the covers. He held his arm out and let Skye curl into him, her head resting on his arm, her belly pressed up against him as he placed his hand lightly on top. There were no words to explain how he felt at that moment, beyond that Dean finally understood why Sam had wanted to go home to Jess after the hunt with Constance Welch. It wasn't just being away from the lifestyle of a hunter or the interview he'd used as an excuse. It was coming home to someone who loved you. Having that familiar presence and truly feeling you were at home at last.

Dean slid his arm around Skye's shoulders as she snuggled in as close as she could, just holding her there, feeling her breathing, her warmth.

"Sam called. He said you were coming home. But…"

"But it wasn't real til now, right?"

"Yeah." Skye smiled, feeling Dean shift slightly so he lean in and kiss her softly. She fell into the kiss willingly, feeling a tear slip from the corner of her eye as it hit home at last that he was here. He was safe.

Dean reached up and brushed his thumb over the path the tear had left behind. "I'm not going away again. Okay? You, Connor, the baby. That's what matters to me. That's what's important. I never want to feel that way again when you called me. Being stuck that far away when you needed me? It's not happening again."

"Dean…" Skye began. She knew what he was trying to say and it was everything she wanted to hear, but how could he say that when they had the Deal hanging over them? She wanted him there to raise his baby, by her side every step of the way. The thought of him not only being gone, but being in Hell was too much to even think about at that moment and she found it hard to breathe.

But then a tiny, yet solid kick broke the moment between them. Dean's eyes widened in amazement, a huge beaming smile appearing as he looked at Skye. "Did you--?"

"Yeah…someone's missed you too." Skye laughed shakily, her emotions high as Dean placed his hand back on her stomach in time to receive another kick.

"I guess so." Dean grinned, before he leaned in and kissed Skye deeply again. He was home and nothing was going to spoil this moment for him…

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx**

_A/N: Only a couple more chapters, people, til the end of this fic. But the next one will be coming along right after it...and the ride is far from over yet! Stay tuned LOL_


	11. Second Chances

_A/N: I just want to state that I've never been to Wall, South Dakota, so all my ideas here? Came from what I could glean from the internet. Any mistakes are mine. Oh, except Dean's opinion on something...that's all his. LOL Thanks to LovinJackson (Tara) lovinandrew (Deb) and Amanda (Pallina) for pushing me to get this posted. _

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx**

"_You do know there's going to be consequences for this, right?" Skye arched an eyebrow at Dean as she reclined against him on the hood of the Impala. The night was warm, the barest hint of a breeze brushing over them. Dean's jacket was folded up beneath his head, nothing but a thin grey t-shirt between Skye and his bare chest. _

"_Oh come on…it's a classic!" Dean protested, grinning. "You said you wanted to see my favourite movie…"_

"_Actually? I said I wanted time alone with you before the baby was born…you're the one that suggested we see your favourite movie." Skye gently prodded Dean in the chest with her index finger. " Porky's Two isn't exactly a movie I'd go out of my way to see. You just signed yourself up to watch The Notebook, mister…"_

"_You wouldn't?" Dean asked, clearly disturbed by the idea. Not only a chick flick…but one of the all time biggest chick flicks? "That's not just cruel…that's gotta be against the Geneva Convention or something?"_

_Skye laughed, her hand sliding down his chest and sneaking under the bottom of his t-shirt, caressing the warm skin of his abdomen. "What if it came with benefits?" _

_The t-shirt slid higher and Dean closed his eyes with a soft, gutteral groan as he felt Skye's lips on his skin. "Oh man…talk about the art of persuasion…" This was what he had been missing, soft hands ghosting over his body, tugging at his jeans and trying to slide them down over his thighs. Reaching down to help pull his shirt up higher, Dean frowned as he heard the soft, plaintive wail of a baby crying._

_What the hell? Who brought a baby to a Drive In theatre? Well, okay, maybe that wasn't a stretch…but to a screening of Porky's Two? _

"_Just ignore it, baby…it's nothing…"_

_Dean tried to relax again, his smile slowly reappearing as he felt Skye nipping and nibbling long his stomach with blunt teeth, sliding lower and lower. But the crying continued, growing more desperate as Dean tried to raise himself up on his elbows. "You sure we shouldn't check on that?" _

"_Why? Aren't you having fun, Dean?" _

_It was like ice water down his spine as Dean looked down to see Cassie smiling back at him, her hand up his shirt, the other hovering near the open fly of his jeans. "What the hell? Cassie? How did you--? Where's Skye?"_

"_Who?" _

_Dean sat up, reaching to push Cassie away from him…only to find he was back in his room, in bed. God, what the hell sort of a dream was that? He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling stubble there that he wanted to shave off when he showered. "Okay…that royally sucked. Skye, you wouldn't believe the weird ass dream I just had." His hand touched down on the warm shoulder beside him. _

"_Dean, who the hell is this Skye you keep talking about?" _

"_What the fuck?" Dean scrambled away from Cassie, who was lying naked in bed beside him. She wrapped the sheet around her a little self consciously, looking at him in concern. _

"_Hey…you okay? It's just me, baby. What's the matter? That must have been one hell of a nightmare?" _

"_No…no, way." Dean shook his head, thrown by what he was seeing. "This isn't happening. Where's Skye? What's going on?"_

"_Skye? Skye who, Dean? You're not making any sense."_

"_Oh, I'm making perfect sense." Dean threw back, sure of what he was saying. It felt right. It had to be real. "Skye, the woman I love. We're having a baby. I'm going to be a father…"_

_Cassie laughed then, lifting an eyebrow at Dean. "You're kidding me, right? You? You're going to be a father? Dean…you don't do that sort of thing. You're not a one woman kind of guy. You never have been. But that's okay…I'm okay with that. I have been for months now. Ever since you started calling me again…don't you remember? "_

"_What?" No, that couldn't be right. He wasn't that guy anymore. He had settled. Found the one woman he wanted, had a family. Didn't he? Why was Cassie here then? Nothing made sense. This wasn't his life anymore. Dean got out of bed and looked around him for some sign that Skye was there. But it was no longer the room Dean had at Bobby's…it was Cassie's. He was back in Cassie's house again and it hadn't changed since he had come to hunt that killer truck with Sam. His clothes were strewn across the floor as though they had been kicked off as he'd headed for the bed. A sinking feeling gripped his stomach as Dean backed away from the bed and Cassie. "This isn't right. I'm with Skye…we're having a baby…"_

"_No, Dean…you're not. It wasn't real. Come back to bed. Everything will be okay in the morning." Cassie patted the bed beside her, her face a picture of empathy as she gave him a gentle smile. "You'll see. Come back to bed…"_

Dean's eyes snapped open to the soft morning light in his bedroom. His own bedroom at Bobby's. He lay perfectly still for a moment, his heart thudding violently against his ribs, every sense in his body feeling hyper aware as he tried to discern if he was really awake this time. Rolling to his right, his arm reached out to slid over Skye…and found empty bed.

"Skye?" Dean sat up sharply, his heart galloping again as Cassie's voice still rang in his ears. No…no, this was real. He was going to be a father. He already was to Connor. That was real. That was the life he wanted.

Running his hand over the mattress, Dean felt it was cold and his heart lurched in his chest, his throat closing up on him as he knotted the bed sheet up in his fist.

"Hey…"

Dean's head snapped up towards the door to see Skye standing there, watching him.

"Dean? Hey…you okay? Babe?" Skye moved towards him, her swollen belly making it hard for her to move as fast as she would have liked. Reaching the bed, Skye sat down on the edge and dipped her head slightly, concerned at the bewildered, almost frightened expression she saw in Dean's face. Her heart was in her throat seeing him this way and she cupped a hand to his cheek. "What is it? What happened? Are you alright? You're scaring me."

There was warmth and familiarity in the touch as Dean leaned into Skye's hand, closing his eyes for a moment. The tension was washing out of his muscles as the dream began to fade. "I'm okay…I'm fine."

"Bad dreams?"

"Yeah…I guess so." Dean nodded, pulling Skye to him and holding her tight. Her belly was pressed in against him and it was the best feeling in the world right then. His hands slid down as he drew back at last from the embrace, resting on Skye's stomach, feeling the baby moving.

"You sure you're okay?" Skye asked again, watching Dean carefully.

"Yeah," Dean smiled this time. "I just didn't know where you were…that's all."

Skye snorted softly. "You can blame junior here for that. Pregnancy bladder sucks, let me tell you."

Dean chuckled then and leaned over to kiss Skye again, cupping a hand to the back of her neck and drawing her into a deeper kiss, the cobwebs of the dream blowing away in the process. He wanted so badly to just close the door and crawl back into bed with Skye. But he couldn't. It was too soon after the hospital scare and there was no way he wanted to do anything to jeopardise the baby.

"Daddy!" A blonde torpedo exploded into the room and dived towards Dean, wrapping two tiny arms around his waist. "Love you too, Daddy."

Dean looked at Skye in bemusement. She was smiling in return, fighting back laughter as Connor lifted his head and frowned at Dean before he firmly restated, "Love you too, Daddy!"

"Uhhh…love you too, buddy?" Dean ventured, grinning as Connor beamed at his reply, scrambled up him to give Dean a wet kiss on the cheek, then all but leapt off and raced out of the room giggling.

"It's his new saying…" Skye laughed as she saw Dean look to her for some sort of explanation. "It started off with him telling me, your Dad and Bobby that he loved us, so we replied, We love you too, Connor. Now he thinks you need to have the too at the end of it." Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. "Kids…"

Dean laughed, climbing to his feet and stretching as his spine popped, wincing a little as his bandages shifted. "I should have a shower. I smell like something I brought in on my boots…and I need to change my dressings anyway." He bent down and kissed Skye again, then grabbed a towel from a hook on the back of the door and headed for the bathroom.

Once he was inside, closing the door behind him, Dean considered turning on the shower before he changed his mind. It was better to get the bandages off first, then get the water running. He stepped out of his boxers and started to unravel the first one, when the bathroom door opened.

Skye slipped in quickly, then closed the door and slipped the lock on. "You might want to consider locking that if you don't want Connor busting in here. He thinks you're invincible. It'll scare the hell out of him to see you like that."

"And what about you? What do you think?" Dean asked, focussing on unwinding the bandage in his hand.

"I think you might need a hand to get those bandages on afterwards…and that it doesn't matter what happened. It doesn't change who you are to me." Skye couldn't make it any plainer than that. Sure, she hated to think of how burnt Dean was. Because it caused him pain and discomfort. That was all. He was still her Dean.

Taking the bandage from his hand, she knelt down and took over the task, watching the still healing skin appear as the gauze gave way at last. It looked red and angry, peeling in a lot of places, melted still in others. Her breath caught in her throat, tears prickling her eyes. "God, Dean…how the hell have you been dealing with this alone?"

"It looks worse than it is." Dean lied, refusing to look at the state of his burns. "They itch like crazy though…"

"No kidding…" Skye wrinkled her nose slightly, concentrating on the job at hand so she wouldn't cause Dean any more pain than he was already in. She rocked back on her heels as the last of the bandages came away and she could see the full extent of the damage. The vast tracts of skin that had been burnt down his legs, across his lower back, around his thighs. So many pieces fell into place in the jigsaw within her mind of what had happened, how bad it had been.

Her breath hitched in her throat as Skye struggled to stop the tears that had filled her eyes, from escaping and sliding down her cheeks.

Without a word, Dean stepped around Skye, leaving her to compose herself again while he clamped down on his own emotions. He hated Skye seeing him that way, hated to see what it did to her. He turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room before he adjusted the stream and climbed in, closing his eyes as the water washed over his shoulders and down his back. Soothing the itching, washing away the grime and the dead skin as he leaned his hands against the wall and just let the water fall over his head and shoulders, blocking out the world for a moment.

Skye ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, angry with herself, angry with the whole situation. Why did it have to be like this? Why did Dean have to sacrifice himself all the time? Why did she fall for someone that she was going to lose in only a few short months if they couldn't break the deal?

Standing up at last, Skye turned and saw Dean's bowed head through the shower stream. Watching the water cascade over his shoulders, down his spine like a river. Approaching quietly, Skye reached in and picked up the soap, then ever so gently began to wash Dean's back. The movement was slow and gentle, working away the kinks in his muscles in some places, ever so carefully washing away dead skin in others. Her touch was attentive, yet soothing…reconnecting with Dean again, reminding him that he wasn't alone now.

Keeping his eyes closed, his head bowed, Dean allowed Skye to continue, losing himself in her touch, letting her hands tell him the story of how she felt, how she had missed him…until the hot water ran out.

Skye stepped back and picked up Dean's towel for him, gently rubbing it over his shoulders to dry him.

"I could get used to this, you know…" Dean teased, grinning at Skye. It vanished a moment later as the towel brushed a sensitive part of his lower back and he yelped, skipping forward a step.

"Shit! Sorry! Sorry…I didn't mean to..." Skye stammered, horrified to think she had hurt him.

"It's okay. Hey!" Dean captured her chin gently and made Skye look at him, her whole body stilling in that moment as they locked eyes. "It's alright." He leaned in and kissed her, savouring the soft warmth of her lips. "Think you can help me with the bandages again? It's not really a one man job if I want to be comfortable."

"Sure, yeah, of course I can." Skye went to the cupboard beneath the basin, knowing that there was an abundance of medical supplies tucked away inside it. Bobby was always a well prepared hunter. Skye gathered up what she needed and indicated to Dean to get comfortable on the edge of the bathtub while she got ready.

"If I hurt you at all, you let me know, okay? None of your usual tough guy crap, Dean." Skye fixed him with a sharp look. " I mean it."

"You've been around Dad way too much." Dean scowled before Skye smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand.

A comfortable silence fell over them as Skye busied herself with winding the gauze around Dean's burns, making sure she was making them tight enough, while leaving them comfortable to move in. It felt good to be that close to Dean again, his presence soothing, reassuring Skye that she wasn't alone either after the scare with the baby.

"Whoa, easy." Dean grabbed Skye by the elbow, steadying her as she stood up again and wavered slightly until she found her balance. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a little light headed from the sudden change in altitude." Skye joked lamely, feeling a little nauseous as everything finally stopped spinning.

"You sure? It's not the--"

"The baby's fine, Dean." Skye said sharply. Maybe a little too sharply, but the wound was still fresh. The fear still sharp. Skye didn't want to think about it. "The doctor said there was nothing wrong. These…these things just happen sometimes apparently." A tremble had set into her limbs then as everything replayed unbidden in her mind. Azazel's smug face, John's explanation about Sam and Mary. Could she even explain that to Dean? Did she want to? As irrational as it was, she couldn't help the fear that gripped her as she thought of Jason. He had bailed on her and Connor…his own son, a normal, healthy baby. What if Dean couldn't handle the news that Ethan could be like Sam?

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Skye hadn't expected that and she gave Dean a puzzled look.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. For both of you. I shouldn't have taken that job. I don't know what the hell was I thinking? Taking off like that cause of some haunted painting? Just hitting the road to hunt again?"

"You were thinking of saving those families, Dean. That's what you do. It's who you are. I never want that to change, you hear me?"

Skye was saying what she wanted him to hear, because her eyes said something else. They were reflecting the pain she felt over it all and he wasn't letting himself off the hook that easily. "And what about you? The baby? Connor? I should have been here, Skye."

"Okay," Skye paused for a moment, drawing in a slow breath, trying to fight the anger and hurt rearing it's ugly hurt. " You should have. Is that what you really want to hear? I was pissed with you for being gone when I needed you. I was scared and I felt alone and all I wanted was you here to hold me. But you weren't." Skye felt her control evaporating as she opened up to Dean. She didn't want to do it this way, but she wasn't going to shy away from things now that Dean was giving her this opening either.

Dean's green eyes were bright with pain, the muscle in his jaw ticking slightly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. It was gutting him to think of Skye being alone at a time like that. He would never shake the memory of her voice in that first call. The blind panic and helplessness he had felt.

"And you should have answered your phone, Dean. You want to talk about not being there for me? That was it, right there. You promised me that you would answer your phone…and instead? I got some strange woman answering. That was a pretty stellar effort at fucking up that promise." Skye knew that the bathroom wasn't exactly the place for this talk. But they were alone and the door was locked. Skye wanted answers. She needed to know where they stood.

"I didn't know about that." Dean managed to keep his voice level as he spoke. "I didn't know the hell Cassie was doing, I swear."

"And what was she doing? " Skye demanded, not wanting to believe that Dean would do anything to compromise what they had. But would another woman care? Or would they just see Dean as fair game?

"John told me about her, you know." Skye added. The first girl that Dean had ever opened up to. The first girl that had ever truly broken Dean's heart. And Skye wasn't stupid, she knew when Dean got under your skin, he was there to stay. The sort of guy you never forget. A better man than Jason had ever been, but Skye knew all too well how hard it could be to let go of the past. Dean had been alone, hurt, scared for what was happening to the baby…had he turned to a familiar face for comfort?

"Nothing happened, Skye." Dean's voice deepened, became more forceful as he sought to make it clear. That was a line he had no intention of crossing. "I didn't know about the call to you. I didn't know what she was doing until it happened."

"What happened?" Skye demanded sharply, her heart aching.

"Cassie walked in on me changing my bandages. She offered to help me…and she kissed me. _She _kissed me." Dean stressed, watching the pain building within Skye's face. He had always prided himself on knowing how to read people and right now, all he could see was pain screaming within the woman he loved.

"She kissed you? What did you do?" Skye asked, her chest feeling tight, finding it harder to breathe as if the air was thick and oppressive.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I pushed her away!" Dean snapped, his voice started to rise. "What do you think?"

"What do I think? You sure you want to go there?" Skye wasn't backing away from this, her own voice rising now. She didn't care if John and Bobby could hear her. Hell, she didn't care if _Sam and Elise _could hear her.

"So what? You think I'd cheat on you? Is that it? While the cat's away the mouse is banging the first chick he finds?"

"Not any chick, Dean. Your ex-girlfriend. Who was happy to say that you were in her room, in the fucking shower! What the fuck am I supposed to think?"

"That I'd Never. Fucking. Cheat!" Dean yelled then, wincing as the strain pulled on his lungs that only the day before, had been choked with smoke. "I'm not Jason, Skye! I'm not looking for an out here, okay?"

"Aren't you?" Skye challenged, ignoring the voice screaming in her mind for her to stop, that she was going too far, that she was getting this all wrong.

"Is that what you think?" The fire was extinguished suddenly in Dean, his whole body going still as he looked at her with sharp, wounded eyes.

"I think it's not much of a stretch to believe that you'd look for something with a woman you care about, Dean. A woman who isn't going to be the reason you go to Hell in a few short months!" Skye threw at him bitterly before her eyes widened, realising what she'd said. She stepped back then, turning away and taking a few shaking steps to the basin, feeling like she was going to be sick.

The room was silent again, Dean staring at Skye's back, his bare skin now covered in goose bumps. "Jesus, Skye…"

"I'm sorry." Skye heard the quaver in her voice and closed her eyes, disgusted with herself. "I…I didn't mean that."

"Skye." Dean stepped forward, gently laying a hand on her arm and pulling until she turned, her shame filled brown eyes swimming with tears.

"I didn't mean that, Dean. God…I don't believe I said that. You sold your soul for me and I just threw it back in your face. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Stop it." Dean's tone was crisp, commanding even though it was soft. "Nothing happened with Cassie. She kissed me, I pushed her away and then I took her back to her hotel room and said goodbye. That's it. I promise."

Skye nodded, feeling tears spilling down her cheeks and hating herself for showing that weakness. "I…I know you wouldn't, Dean. I know that. God, I know that. But I'm just so scared. Scared of something happening to you…to the baby. If I lose you…"

"Hey! Hey, that's not happening. I'm not going anywhere."

"I can't do this, Dean. This baby is all I'll have of you in a few months and now…now I'm scared that I might lose you both."

"Listen to me." Dean ordered again, his voice like a velvet coated girder. "I'm not going anywhere and neither is this baby. We'll get through this, Skye. Okay? We'll be okay." He tucked his fore and middle fingers under her chin, lifting it to ensure Skye was looking at him. "Are we good?"

Skye nodded, feeling another traitorous tear slid down her cheek before Dean cupped his hand to her face and thumbed it away.

"Cause if there's going to be another round? I might want to get my jeans on at least. This whole half mummy look isn't doing anything to give me the advantage, you know." He quirked his lips in a teasing smirk.

Skye laughed quietly then, the sound still thick with tears and barely checked emotion that had Dean pulling her into a tight embrace. She pressed her head against his bare chest, listening to his heart beat as strong as racehorse. Locked in his arms, it was easy to just let go of everything for a moment and feel sheltered, safe again.

Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then lifted her chin up with one finger as he leaned in to kiss her fully on the lips. It was deep, scorching hot and told Skye everything she needed to know about how he felt for her. His eyes searched hers again when they regretfully pulled apart for air moments later.

Dean wasn't stupid enough to think that this conversation was over. Not completely. Skye knew he wasn't cheating on her, but the deeper issue of her fears of him dying when the deal came due? They weren't going to be smoothed over any time soon. But he was back now and they had time to talk. There was still time to find a way out of deal for him.

"I'm starving. You think I could convince Bobby to cook scrambled eggs?" Dean lifted an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Coffee, maybe…but eggs might be pushing it." Skye managed a smile at last.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Maybe we can cruise into town later and see if they have any decent pie?"

"Now that sounds like a date. I'll grab you some clean clothes, because as much as I'd like you to eat breakfast like that? I'm pretty sure you'd have Bobby in therapy." Skye teased before she turned to leave the bathroom. Her hand paused on the doorhandle as she looked back at Dean. " Dean…?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you're not Jason. I know that. You're nothing like him at all…you're a better man than he ever was." She slipped out the door then, hoping that Dean would accept her apology.

**xxxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxxx **

Sam looked like shit. And that was the nicest way he could put it right now. His face was pale, his eyes surrounded by dark circles that matched the bruising on his left cheekbone from where Andras' boot had met his face. Bandages still covered his arms, his side and both legs where those creepy demons had been feeding from him like he was some sort of human buffet.

The lighting in the bathroom was doing nothing to help Sam's appearance either. He lifted a hand to his chin, feeling the rough scratch of several days stubble. It itched and he wanted to get rid of it, finding it hard to recognise himself in the mirror's reflection before him. But then, was there much left of the real Sam Winchester anymore? Maybe he was more demon now than anything? Why else had it felt so good to kill those Seeker demons? To do what he had done to Andras? Sure, Sam could try and tell himself it had been about revenge. Driven by the anger of what had been happening to him, to Elise. That his fear of losing Elise and Dean had pushed him. But he'd be lying to himself….because the truth was, Sam enjoyed it. He enjoyed that feeling of power, of control. The darkness didn't scare him…it beckoned to him and he was finding it harder and harder to ignore it.

What would happen if he just gave in again? What if he couldn't save Dean from the deal? The sheer thought of losing his brother evoked so many feelings and memories that Sam didn't want to recall. The despair, the blackness he had felt inside.

Elise had pulled him back from it all. She had just blasted through his defences and scattered the darkness in her wake. Would Jess have been able to do that? Could she have accepted who Sam was? What he had become? He wasn't exactly that shy college kid anymore and it was impossible to imagine going back to that sort of a normal lifestyle. No matter how he wanted it still. So what did that mean for him and Elise? Was it right for him to even be thinking like that?

There was no doubt in Sam's mind as to how much he loved Elise. But could he even allow himself to think of having a life with her? Of asking her to settle for a life that would be anything but normal? Was that unfair? Maybe he should have let her go after all? Maybe being with her family was better in the long run?

A high pitched shriek shattered Sam's thoughts. He spun, throwing out a hand to grasp the towel rail beside him as he stumbled from the bathroom, his heart racing as he pushed his body on rubbery legs that were still regaining their strength. "Elise?!"

Sam crashed against the doorframe hard enough to gasp in pain as he tried to see where Elise was. She had gone out for more supplies while Sam had drifted back to sleep. How could he have let her go? Dammit, he should have made her stay. It wasn't safe out there! Andras was gone, but there were other demons…maybe even Homeland Security…

"Sam! Get out here! You're _not _going to believe what I found out there! Talk about a lucky break! I hit the bloody jackpot!!"

Sam remained in the doorway of the bathroom, his shoulder throbbing painfully as he looked at Elise excitedly emptying a grocery bag in the kitchenette area. "So you're okay? Nothing's wrong?"

"Wrong? Shit no! Everything's just bloody brilliant!" Elise beamed, filling up the motel room's complimentary electric kettle, almost bouncing with energy. Energy that quickly calmed to a halt as she saw the look on Sam's face. "What?"

"What?" Sam shot an eyebrow skywards as he repeated her question incredulously. "You're kidding me, right? I thought something had happened! You scared the shit out of me, Elise!"

"Really?" Elise hadn't considered that as she entered the motel room. All she had been thinking of, was showing her bounty. "Geez, sorry, Sam. I…I'm just excited that's all." Her voice was softer now, slightly wounded and conciliatory as she all but pouted.

Sam rolled his eyes, wondering if Elise knew how easily that look got under his skin? He felt like an asshole now, even though he had no reason to…and he knew Elise didn't mean for him to feel that way either. "Don't apologise…I'm just jumpy."

"No shit, Sherlock." Elise deadpanned. "If you weren't? I'd be worried. Look, Scouts honour…or Girls Guides…whatever. I won't scare the shit out of you like that again, okay?"

Sam chuckled then, knowing full well there was bound to other times when she would do exactly that. He shuffled slowly towards the kitchenette. His legs were still shaky and weak, but he was sick of lying down like an invalid. "So what's got you so excited anyway?"

"You wouldn't believe it. I mean, I didn't bloody well believe it at first. Not here. And especially in this place? Middle of bloody nowhere? I keep pinching myself cause I have to be dreaming."

"Okayyyy…" Sam ventured cautiously, growing more confused by the minute. He waited for another minute for some sort of explanation before he prompted again. "And what did you find?"

"Tim Tams!!" Elise blurted out excitedly as though that explained everything. She bounced on the ball of her feet, grinning like a maniac and clapping her hands together. "Can you believe it?"

"Well that all depends…what's a Tim Tam?" Sam was starting to feel like he had come in half way through the movie now.

"What's a-?" Elise looked at him stunned for a moment. "Jesus, Sam…are you shitting me?"

"Um…no?" Sam wrinkled his nose a little, wondering what the hell he was missing here?

"Oh mate…I knew there was a good reason I bought every packet they had left! They had a whole box of them! The guy at the store was saying he had bought them from a Target about 4 months ago before they ran out of stock… I couldn't believe my eyes! These things are gold, Sam! They're Nirvana! Fucking manna from heaven!" Elise snatched up a packet and held them up for Sam to see.

"It's a cookie? It's a chocolate coated cookie? That's what has you so excited?" Sam was sure he was missing the point here.

"It's a biscuit, Sam. From home! From Australia!! I ate these things all the time back home! And don't let the looks fool you. These little beauties are downright morish on their own. But it's what you can do with them…that makes them so special. Now sit that hot little arse of yours down and I'll make you a coffee…and show you." Elise winked at Sam, before she busied herself with making them a cup of instant coffee each.

Sam grimaced as he eased himself down into one of the vinyl chairs that were sat around a round laminate table. It wasn't long before Elise was sliding a cup of coffee before him.

"How are you feeling anyway? You've got more colour back in your cheeks at last. And you're awake…which is a bonus, cause the tv here sucks." Elise told him as she took a seat on the other side of the table.

Sam smiled at that and inhaled the fresh coffee in front of him, not caring that it was instant. It still smelt good. Damn good. "I'm doing better. I'm starving, I know that much."

"Yeah? Well, try a few of these…but take it easy. I should probably wait until you're better, but I really want you to taste this…" The excitement was creeping back into Elise's voice again.

"Okay." Sam picked up a Tim Tam from the plate and looked at it for a moment before he took a bite. "Not bad…not bad at all."

"You think that's alright? You haven't tasted anything yet, mate. You need to try the Tim Tam Slam."

"The what?"

Elise picked up a Tim Tam and held it up for Sam to see. "First? You bite the corner off one end…then the other."

Sam put down the Tim Tam he had been holding and took another, this time carefully biting off only the corners of it. "Okay…now what?"

"Now? You slam it." Elise grinned, leaning forward to dip her Tim Tam into the hot coffee and sucking it up like she was drinking through a straw.

Sam quirked an eyebrow at that, then tried it for himself. He sucked cautiously for a split second, then a little harder as the taste hit his tongue. It was incredible! The bitterness of the coffee perfectly complimented by the rich sweetness of the chocolate as it filled his mouth. The biscuit was melting in his fingers as he quickly popped it into his mouth and almost rolled his eyes in sheer bliss at the way it dissolved on his tongue. "Awh mah Gawd!"

"Ha!!" Elise slapped the table with the palm of her hand, grinning. "I told you!! Food of the Gods, baby!!"

Sam reached out for another one, making a mental note to tell Dean about this, just so Sam could watch the look of sheer childish bliss he knew his brother would get when he tried them for himself.

"You up for a walk later? I thought we could check out Wall Drug? If you think you'd be alright to walk around a bit?" Elise didn't want Sam to push things too much after what had happened. But she could see in his eyes that he was already going stir crazy being cooped up in the room.

"Yeah…that'd be good. I've always wanted to check out Wall Drug. Just never had the chance." Sam smiled as he picked up another Tim Tam and prepared to 'slam' it. His stomach was rumbling now, his body demanding fuel to feed the healing process.

"It's a date then." Elise smiled, picking up her coffee and quietly sipping it, her gaze locked on Sam, flushing her with warmth as she saw him slowly coming back to life at last.

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx **

Dean was sitting in Bobby's kitchen, like he had dozens of times in the past. Possibly more, both before his father had died and after. It had always been warm and comfortable, even when it was just Bobby and Sam sitting there. Or going back further to when Sam had been just plain Sammy, eating Lucky Charms or Cheerios with Dean while Dad and Bobby researched another hunt.

But in all those memories, Dean had never imagined that he would find himself in this kitchen again one day with both his father and the woman he loved. It was a slice of normality that he could find himself addicted to all too easily.

"So you wanna explain to me again how the hell a grey haired old lady got the drop on you?" Bobby couldn't hide his grin as he tended to the fry pan full of bacon, eggs and sausage. He'd already argued good naturedly once this morning with Skye over who was handling the cooking in his own kitchen.

"She looked like she'd snap if I sneezed on her!" Dean retorted defensively.

"I taught you better than that about dropping your guard, Dean." John spoke up sternly from behind the book he was currently engrossed in at the kitchen table across from his son. "Are you sure you got all the paintings?"

"Yeah, Dad. They're toast, I made sure of it. It's done, case closed." Dean nodded, feeling like he was twenty two again, needing to prove his skills to his father.

"Mommy, I want cereal!!" Connor rushed into the kitchen, grinning cheekily. "Wif milk an' sugar an' a 'poon!" He stood patiently waiting by the table as Skye grabbed the box of Cheerios from the panty cupboard.

"Can you get me the milk, kiddo?" Skye asked her son over her shoulder as she grabbed a bowl out.

Connor rushed to the fridge, pulling out the milk and dutifully carrying it over. As soon as his cereal was ready, Skye pulled a chair out for Connor to sit on. But instead, Connor ignored it completely, the little boy zooming around the table and clambering up onto Dean's lap, pulling his bowl closer to him before diving into his first spoonful of cereal with a grin.

"Oh honey, no! You can't sit on Dean! You might hurt him!" Skye admonished, panicking at the thought of his burns being pulled.

"It's okay." Dean wasn't exactly comfortable, his bandages pressed in against his legs in a way that made him breathe through the pain, but he held up a hand, signalling Skye to back down. "He's fine, Skye, let him go." There was undercurrent of strain in his voice.

"No, Dean, your legs!"

Connor wrinkled his nose then, looking unsure of himself as he wriggled on Dean's lap, trying to look at him. "You 'kay, Daddy?"

"Are you kidding me? Never better, little dude. Eat your Cheerios before they go soggy, huh?" Dean gave Connor an easy grin, refusing to show any pain at all, feeling like a weight shifted from his chest as the little boy went back to eating his cereal with a ravenous appetite.

Skye hesitated for a moment longer before she was persuaded by the light in Dean's eyes, the look of peace on his face now as he eased back in his chair and made himself more comfortable. No amount of pain was going to rob him of having a moment like this with Connor and Skye fought to swallow past the lump in her throat as she watched them together.

**xxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx**

"You sure you're up to this? I mean, we can head back to the motel room, call in for some take out. Seriously, Sam. If you're not up to this--" Elise couldn't help but worry about him as they walked towards the main street of Wall.

"Elise…relax. I'm okay." Sam gave Elise a smile as he held her hand, squeezing it softly. He was a little shaky on his feet still, but to the casual observer, they would see nothing but a normal young couple out for a walk. Sam had a blue hoodie on, his free hand buried deep into a pocket to help hide the bandages.

Okay, so maybe they weren't exactly a _normal _looking couple with the bruises they were both sporting, but if Sam had to spend any more time in that room? He would go insane and he knew that Elise wasn't exactly fond of it either. The fresh air and sunshine was what he needed right now. Watching people go back and forth on their daily business.

Wall, South Dakota had been a huge tourist stop before Azazel had opened the Hell's Gate and although it was still a vital destination stop for many, as well as a supply hub, it was obvious that the crowds had gone. Sam could recall seeing news items in the past about the crowds that came through here. Rows upon rows of campervans and cars had filled the streets almost the entire stretch.

Now there was no problem with finding a parking spot on the main street, but life _was _returning to normal. People were window shopping, eating in the diners again. Wall would bounce back like everywhere else had been for the last few months.

But for now? The smaller crowds meant it was easier for Sam and Elise to browse the small shops that filled the inside of Wall Drug. They could just play tourist for once, no need to look for signs of trouble, no need to be on edge. Sam found his muscles uncoiling and relaxing more and more, even though the walking was tiring him out slowly.

"Sam! Sam, check this out!!" Elise dragged Sam towards a window where an old sixties rock and roll song could be heard. Inside, was a large animatronic gorilla playing a piano as it's mouth mimicked singing.

"_There's a man in the funny papers we all know _

_(Alley Oop, oop, oop, oop-oop)_

_He lived 'way back a long time ago _

_(Alley Oop, oop, oop, oop-oop)"_

"Stay here. I'll be right back. Right here…okay?" Elise stressed before she rushed off, leaving Sam a little bewildered as he leaned back against the window frame and watched the gorilla singing. Of all the things he had expected to see at a tourist trap, this sure wasn't on the list. And what the hell was Elise doing? Casting a glance over the faces surrounding him as he looked out over the outdoor area at the back of Wall Drug, Sam couldn't see Elise anywhere and he felt a flicker over panic ignite inside. Damn it, he couldn't let himself freak every time she was out of his sight. It was stupid and unfair on Elise, who had more than proven she could look after herself.

With a sigh, Sam turned back to the gorilla again, drumming his long fingers on the wooden window sill along with the music.

"Hey…Sam!"

Sam turned, and blinked as he was suddenly caught by a camera flash. Elise was grinning as she lowered the disposable camera in her hands. "Perfect!"

"What are you doing?" Sam laughed, still blinking to rid himself of the camera flare.

"Oh come on, how could I pass that up?" Elise nodded towards the gorilla again. "Sam the gorilla? It's just too cute."

"Sam the-?" Sam turned and looked closer, feeling like an idiot when he saw the sign at the back of the display. How did he miss that?? Sam the Singing Gorilla…one of the many attractions of Wall Drug. Of course Elise would want a photo of that.

"Okay, this way…come on…" Elise grabbed his hand and began to drag Sam towards something else. "Climb up on that and let me take your photo."

It was a huge Jackalope statue with a saddle on it's back.

"I'm not sitting on that." Sam took a step back without even thinking about what he was doing. He'd been 12 years old the first time Sam had spied a real Jackalope while Dad was hunting a werewolf that had been picking off campers on a hiking trail.

_The cabin had been pretty run down, with no TV or phone reception. Dean was able to amuse himself with tormenting Sam…or cleaning weapons or throwing knives at a tree just off the front porch. _

_Sam had slipped away into the woods, bored and curious as to what was around them. He knew not to let the cabin out of his sight and the steady "twip, thunk" of Dean's throwing knives hitting the tree let Sam know he wasn't alone or out of earshot. _

_The sun was warm as Sam found a tree to lean against while he pitched rocks into the distance and imagined being anywhere but there. Dad and Dean liked hunting, enjoyed this lifestyle. But not Sam. He couldn't help but want to get out some day and live his own life. _

_As it first crept around the tree, all soft silky rabbit fur and antlers, Sam had held his breathe, mesmerised by the sight. Who would have guessed that Jackalopes were real?? And so cute! Holding perfectly still, Sam let the creature quietly hop towards him until it was in reach. He was careful to keep his breathing slow and even, a perfect statue as the Jackalope sniffed the leg of his jeans, it's little nose twitching, ears flopping and flicking lazily. _

_Sam lifted his hand inch by inch until he was able to sink his fingers into the soft, velvety fur, amazed by how it felt. "It's okay…I'm not going to hurt you…" He ran two fingers tentatively over the horns next, his eyes widening at how real they were, how strong. _

_It had been at that point, that everything went south. The Jackalope had turned on Sam with a speed that defied belief, sinking it's teeth into the soft flesh of his hand between his thumb and forefinger. It's fur was running scarlet with Sam's blood as it wrapped it's legs around Sam's arm and began to rabbit kick savagely, scratching and tearing the skin._

_Sam screamed, trying to get to his pocket knife with his free hand as he tried to dislodge the Jackalope, but it had a firm grip and only bit down harder. _

"_Sammy!!" Dean barrelled through the trees, pitching a throwing knife with pinpoint accuracy. It slammed into the Jackalope, tearing it from Sam's hand before it crashed to the ground, twitching, gurgling and screaming in pain. Dean stormed over to the Jackalope and pulled the knife out, then stabbed it again, making sure it was dead and wasn't going to harm Sam anymore before he turned back to his brother. "Dude…gimme a look at your hand."_

"_I'm okay…" Sam tried to protest, holding his hand inside his jacket and trying to ignore the blood dripping to cover his boots. _

"_Dammit, Sam, it's my ass on the line with Dad if that gets infected. Now give me a freaking look and get your ass back to the cabin. I can't believe you wandered off, dude. You know better than that!" _

"_I didn't wander off." Sam scowled, holding out his hand to Dean and trying not to flinch as it was examined. "Oww!! Your bedside manner sucks, Dean." _

"_Yeah, but my knife skills? Are second to none, Sammy. Well…except Dad. Come on, that's gonna need stitches, dude." Dean grinned, slinging an arm around Sam's shoulders. "I'll tell Dad it snuck into the house and you scared it…"_

Staring now at this giant replica, the memories had all come rushing back. Sam could still see the faint scars on his hand from the bite. He shuddered a little and shook his head at Elise. " I can't…"

Elise wasn't sure what to say or how to react as she watched the memories flicker over Sam's face. It was easy to forget that Sam had seen and done things the average person thought only happened in urban legends. After a moment, she handed the camera to him. "Take my photo on it then? Or we could always ask Sam the gorilla for an encore." She gently nudged Sam, smiling and breaking the tension.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh no…I'm done with that. Climb up there." He waited until Elise was happily perched on top of the Jackalope, before he snapped off several shots, laughing as Elise pulled goofy faces for him and poked tongues.

"Okay…" Sam draped his arms around Elise once she had climbed down again. It was amusing to see how much taller he was then her and it only made him more protective. " So what now?"

"I've got one last place I want to look through, then we can grab some burgers or something and head back to the motel?" Elise looked at Sam hopefully.

"You're the tour guide…after you…"

That one last place, turned out to be Wall Drug's massive souvenir shop. Sam did his best to steer clear of the wall covered in mounted Jackalope heads, heading along the rows while Elise was busy checking out everything from hats to bumper stickers. There was a look in her eye as Sam kept at eye on her from a distance. A look that he recognised. She was hunting…in her own way. Her gaze swept shelf after shelf, studying everything, not missing a single item. It was amusing to watch and Sam found himself smiling again. How did she do that? How did manage to make him smile so much? To make him feel so light and happy just by catching her eye and watching the way her smile would light up everything about her. It was something he hadn't felt since Stanford with Jess. Just the freedom to relax and be himself around someone other than family.

And it was in that moment, that Sam knew what he had to do. The cogs all turning, pieces falling into place…

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

The sun was finally sinking below the horizon when Sam and Elise made their way back to the motel. It was obvious that Elise's feet were aching from walking so much and Sam was so tired he was ready to curl and sleep for a week. But he wouldn't have taken back this day for anything. Despite how bone weary he felt.

"Whoa - hey, hang on. I'll get the door. Just give me a moment." Sam squeezed past Elise who was carrying what Sam had estimated to be half of what Wall Drug had been selling. There was an ornately carved leather gun holster for Dean, a cap for Bobby, a bone handled folding knife for John and Elise had picked out a cuddly toy Jackalope for Connor, while Skye had a horseshoe for luck plus a comical bobble head wolf. The bags filled both of Elise's arms along with the T-shirts and other gifts she had bought for herself and Sam.

The fake credit card Sam had was almost maxed out now and he'd have to pick up another one soon, but he couldn't care less. His mind was set on something else, something that had his stomach tied in knots.

Slipping the key into the lock, Sam opened the door and stepped back to allow Elise inside. He'd wanted to carry the bags home, but Elise had stood her ground on the main street of Wall, arguing point blank with him that "She wasn't a bloody wuss and he was hurt so he could stop whinging about it."

It hadn't mattered one bit that he had argued with her all the way back to the motel, trying to take the bags off Elise…until she had swatted him with one. The one with the horse shoe in it. At that point? Sam had given in, rubbing his elbow and trying not to laugh.

He'd settled for carrying their food instead, heading towards the round laminated table and setting down the bag of burgers and fries. "You need some help with those?" Sam turned around just as Elise dumped everything onto their bed.

"Nah, I think I've got it covered, thanks."

"I can see that." Sam grinned. He let out a small "oof" of air as Elise pulled out a cowboy hat and smacked it against his chest.

"Go and try that on…that's yours.."

"Wait, you bought me a…cowboy hat?" Sam lifted an eyebrow, looking dubious about the choice in gift. Not that he didn't appreciate it…but really? A cowboy hat? He slipped it on his head, noting that it felt pretty good actually.

"Now that looks bloody nice…go and have a look." Elise eyed Sam appraisingly, pleased with her choice of a nice tan coloured cowboy hat for him. It looked downright hot on him and she found herself imagining Sam in nothing but boots, blue jeans and that hat. No shirt…oh yeah, that could work.

Sam gave Elise another sceptical look, heading to the bathroom to check his reflection. Okay…maybe it wasn't so bad. He shifted it around on his head a little, finding the right angle that he was happy with. It still felt strange, but hey, he was happy to wear it for Elise. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure he was alone, Sam slipped a hand onto his pocket and withdrew the small box. He flipped it open and looked at the ring, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest now.

God, could he do this? Should he do this? What if it was the wrong time? What if it was a stupid idea in the first place and Elise laughed at him for it? Would she laugh?

Sam gave himself a mental kick, knowing that no matter how much he was over thinking all this? There was no way that Elise would laugh.

He closed the box and was about to slip it into his pocket, when he was startled by Elise's voice behind him.

"You gonna be in here all day? Cause you know, I could get you to pose on the bed for me if you like the hat that much? A few shots for the private collection?" Elise quirked an eyebrow suggestively.

Sam fumbled, trying not to drop the box in his hands, almost failing, before his fingers managed to lock around it. But not before Elise had spotted it.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam tried lamely, his face pinched and awkward as he put it behind his back. Great, he'd screwed things already. He could see the suspicions in Elise's eyes even as he tucked the box into the back pocket of his jeans. "The hat's great…I love it, really." Ducking forward, Sam snatched a quick kiss from Elise as he moved past her. " How about we have those burgers before they get cold?"

Elise turned slowly, one hand resting on her hip as she watched him. "Uh huh…and the box?"

"That? Nothing…it's nothing." Sam gave a nervous, twitchy smile as he grabbed the bag with their food. He pulled out a burger, sitting it down on one side of the table, then grabbed out his own. The fries were next before Sam sat down and jerked a thumb towards the chair over the other side. "Your fries will get cold."

Elise had no idea what had him acting so suspicious. She crossed the floor and sat down, picking absentmindedly at the fries. "What's up with you all of a sudden? You're acting like I just caught you with your hand in the biccie jar, Sam. It's making me nervous."

Shit. Nervous? Sam didn't want Elise to be nervous. He wanted this moment to be just right. Perfect even.

And now he had blown it. Letting out a soft sigh, he reached back around into his back pocket and extracted the box. Okay, so perfect was screwed…he could still do this. It could still be salvaged. He had come this far and if Elise was still sitting at this table with him? Maybe it didn't need to be a perfect moment in the usual sense. Because he already had what he needed.

Slipping to one knee, ever the traditionalist and well aware that he had already lost this chance once in his life, he took a deep breath.

"Sam?" Elise asked cautiously, her heart racing, stomach churning as she watched the box reappear before her. It was opened to reveal a simple but elegant silver ring with rose and green gold leaves engraved into it. Sam knew it wasn't your typical engagement ring with a rock the size of China in it, but the silver was practical. It might one day protect Elise if she needed it.

"Elise…will you-?" Sam had to pause for a moment to swallow his heart back down from his throat and try to block out the rush of blood he could hear in his ears right now. His mouth was so dry, he could barely swallow. "Will you marry me?"

There. He'd said it…now he just needed to hear the answer. A heart beat past…and then another. And another.

Sam watched Elise for some sign, any small signal of what her answer would be. Had he _really _screwed this up?

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx**

"You're not serious…"

"Dean! Shhhh, he'll hear you!" Skye hissed in a stage whisper at him. They were both sat on the couch in Bobby's living room. Connor was knelt on the floor, his feet tucked underneath him as he stared at the screen and sang along to his heart's content with the movie they were watching. His tiny voice was soft and sweet, hitting all the right notes, even if the words were anything but what they were meant to be sometimes.

"This was Bobby, right? Bobby put him up to this?" Dean was truly horrified. This was wrong on so many levels and he couldn't shake the urge to head outside and strip down a car or something. Maybe he could convince Connor to help him? Pass over wrenches or spanners or something…get a little dirt, oil and grease on the kid.

"I had nothing to damn well do with it." Bobby appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he smirked at Dean. "You can blame Skye there for that one…she's the damn fan girl bringing that movie into my house."

"Hey!!" Skye scowled at Bobby. "I've heard you humming Greased Lightning, Bobby Singer…so don't pin all this on me."

Bobby sniggered softly, seeing the look of disbelief on Dean's face. The kid was priceless. Utterly priceless.

"What is this? A freaking conspiracy?" Dean demanded quietly, folding his arms. When Connor had dragged him into the living room that evening, begging Dean to watch his "fwavorwite moovie" with him…the last thing Dean had expected was it have Grease inflicted on him.

"Oh stop it. Are you seriously telling me the cars in this doing nothing for you? Or Olivia Newton John in that sprayed on black number at the end?" Skye asked with a grin. "What about Kenickie??"

"Kenickie's a dick…but Sandy _was_ pretty hot at the end." Dean allowed, before he lifted a finger to silence Skye so he could finish his point. "And the car was pretty sweet. But come on? Summer Loving? Beauty School Dropout? I'll end up growing a freaking set of ovaries watching this!"

Both Skye and Bobby burst into laughter then. It was just too funny, seeing the way this was getting to Dean, but Skye had to give him points for not turning the movie off, as much as he wanted to. Because it was Connor's favourite…and it beat watching the Wiggles.

"Connor? Sweetheart? Do you want to show Dean your other favourite movie?" Skye asked as she finally stopped laughing.

Connor whipped around, grinning broadly. "Yeah!" He leapt up from the floor and raced over to the stack of dvds that Skye had began to collect every time she went into Kyle for anything. Pulling out the one he wanted, Connor rushed back over to the dvd player and with precise care, he stopped and ejected the other dvd, swapping the movies and popping them back in their covers. Then he bounded over to Dean and Skye, climbing up onto the couch and sitting between them as the movie started.

"You watch car moovie wif me, Daddy?" Connor looked up earnestly at Dean, his blue eyes wide, watching for the answer.

Fast and the Furious started up and Dean wriggled a little deeper into the couch, sliding an arm across Skye's shoulders as he grinned. "Are you kidding me, little dude? Muscle cars? Hot chicks??"

"Vin Diesel…" Skye murmured appreciatively, scoring a mock wounded look from Dean before he continued.

" I'll watch this with you any time you want, dude." Dean assured Connor.

Connor let out a cheer, beaming a thousand watt smile before he snuggled in between them, cuddling into Dean, his eyes glued to the screen.

By the time Bobby checked on them again at the end of the movie? All three were sound asleep. Dean had tucked Skye in against him and had moved Connor to the other side, his arms around them both as he snored lightly, his body still seeking all the sleep it had lost while he had been gone.

There was no sense in disturbing them. Bobby turned off the tv and draped a throw rug around the trio. He must have been getting soft in his old age, because for all the years Bobby had lived alone after the death of his wife? It was starting to really hit home, how much he would miss this lot if they weren't around. How accustomed he had become to the constant noise and bustle in his once quiet house.

Slipping out of the living room and shutting off the light, Bobby went out to the front porch where John had been drinking coffee, buried in another book for hours now.

The hunter looked up as Bobby appeared, his eyes reflecting cat-like for a moment before John blinked and they were the normal hue they had always been. "Everyone alright?"

"They're fine, quit worrying 'bout them."

"Yeah, cause you do such a fine job of that yourself." John shot back with a smirk. "You'll be fluffing pillows for them next…"

"You keep that mouth of yours going and I'll be stuffing those pillows with those wings." Bobby shot back good naturedly as he sat down. "You find anything in that damn book that'll help?"

"Not yet."

"What are we gonna do, John? That boy's running out of time and I'll be damned if I want to watch what that'll do to Skye and Connor. I saw what it did to Dean and Sam when they lost you, dammit."

"I know, Bobby. What the fuck do you want me to do? I'm searching every damn book. I've contacted everyone I know. They all the say the same thing. There's no way out of the deal." John slammed the book down on the table in front of him.

"Then what do we do?"

"We keep looking." John said resignedly. He wasn't giving in. Not yet, not ever. This was his son. He had to fix this. "I'll find a way to fix the Colt. If I have to kill every demon between here and Hell to save Dean? I'll do it."

Bobby didn't doubt that for a moment, but what worried him was the thought that in trying to save Dean, both John and Sam could get themselves killed...or worse. He was about to voice his concerns, when a persistent buzz started up from a speaker just above their heads.

"What the hell is that?" John looked up at the speaker.

Bobby was already getting to his feet, picking up a sawn off shotgun from the table. "It's the gate alarm. Someone's here. Think it might be Sam and Elise?"

"It could be, I guess…but he said he wasn't coming home yet." John was on his feet as well now, following Bobby off the porch and towards the front gate of the Auto yard. Guns were drawn, neither man willing to go unarmed these days. The gate itself was salted and warded against all manner of supernatural beings, but that didn't mean those demon bastards couldn't get inventive.

A car was idling there, the headlights silhouetting a slender female figure as she waited for someone to open the gate for her.

John squinted slightly against the brightness of the headlights, before he finally caught sight of who was standing there and his blood began to boil. "You've got a fucking nerve coming here. What the hell do you want?"

"John? You know who this is?" Bobby looked for confirmation.

"Yeah, I know her. Bobby Singer, meet Cassie Robinson."

Bobby's surprised gaze snapped back to Cassie before his eyes narrowed at her, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Well ain't that just grand…"

**xxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

_A/N #2: My own Connor really is a Grease fan...and Mamma Mia. It's the cutest thing ever listening to him sing along with those movies. I just had to share that...._


	12. Turn Your Back On The Past

_A/N: Finally! I was starting to think that this chapter was never going to be posted, simply because I had so much trouble with the simplest scenes in it. But thankfully, my writer's block seems to have finally eased. I'll be diving right __into the final chapter now and it's not as big as this one...so it should be up soon. Yes the deal will be handled for all of you that are wondering. Things are coming to a head within the over all plot arc...so I hope you'll stick with. It's going to be an interesting ride... _

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

_**Previously**__…"John? You know who this is?" Bobby looked for confirmation._

"_Yeah, I know her. Bobby Singer, meet Cassie Robinson."_

_Bobby's surprised gaze snapped back to Cassie before his eyes narrowed at her, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Well ain't that just grand…"_

***********

John Winchester had seen many threats towards his family over the years, both human and supernatural. Child Protective Services, well meaning teachers, Police and FBI…even girls who had taught his boys the hard lessons in life about love.

But Cassie Robinson was a different animal altogether. She had not only broken Dean's heart at a time when he was most vulnerable, changing his attitude towards women for years to come, but now she was back again. It was like she enjoyed picking at a scab, watching the wound underneath bleed and weep.

"What do you want, Cassie? I think you've caused enough trouble already." John had heard the yelling from upstairs that morning, grateful that Connor's cartoons had spared the little boy from hearing it too. This went beyond worrying about feelings being stepped on. There was Connor to think about, a new baby on the way. John wasn't letting this girl come in there and mess with what Dean had now.

"I need to talk to him. I need to explain what happened." Cassie pressed. She wasn't about to be sent away like some stupid little school girl. She had a right to see Dean and make her position clear. Ever since she had left Dean in Twin Lakes, she had regretted pushing things the way she had in the bathroom. It had been stupid and impulsive. Now all she was looking to do was clear the air and maybe make Dean realise how sorry she was. Find where she stood with him, if anywhere? "And you have no right to stop me."

"The hell we don't." Bobby bristled next to John. "I've got no plans to let you set foot on my property, girl. So how about you get back and that car and just get the hell out of here? No one has anything to say to you…"

"Oh I don't know, Bobby. I'd love to talk to her…" Skye's voice carried from behind John and Bobby. Both men shifted to look over their shoulders as Skye approached, her face dark and unreadable. "I'm sure she's got a lot of explaining to do…right, Cassie?"

"And you would be?" Cassie folded her arms defensively.

"Oh, that's right…I probably sound different on the phone. I'm Skye…Dean's _girlfriend_. The one you were so happy to talk to on Dean's phone and explain how he was in your shower, in your room. Ring any bells?" Skye's voice was crisp and downright frosty as she paused in front of Cassie, sizing the woman up with a sharp eye.

Bobby and John exchanged a look between them, shifting ever so slightly, ready to stop any trouble before it broke out.

"Look, I didn't come here to cause trouble." Cassie began.

"Really? You didn't, huh? You just thought you'd show up, confess how you feel to Dean, say how sorry you were to throw yourself at him and then you'd be on your way?"

"Throw myself at him?" Cassie repeated indignantly. "Is that what he said? That I threw myself at him? He was standing in front of me…naked. Did he tell you about that part? Or that he was the one to invite me back to his place?"

Skye bristled then, moving into Cassie's personal space, her hands clenching into fists by her side. She was trying not to let this get to her. She really was. Everything had been so good earlier. For a moment Skye had been able to forget about everything and just feel like a normal family as they watched movies in Bobby's house. For one short moment, everything had been right in her world.

"Let me set you straight on something here, Cassie." Skye was smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes at all. "You had your chance. You had Dean and you know what? You blew it. You broke his heart…not once. But twice. Are you understanding me here? Am I being clear enough for you?"

"Skye, enough. You can't afford to get worked up right now." John cautioned as he stepped forward and placed a hand on her arm. "She's not worth it."

"_She _is standing right here, thanks." Cassie snapped.

" I wouldn't thank anyone just yet…we're far from finished." Skye spat back, shrugging John off as she went to moved forward, only to find Bobby stepping in front of her.

"Easy, darlin'…she ain't worth it and you know it. Let's just head back on inside and check on Connor, huh? You with me?" Bobby waited until Skye met his gaze before he even thought of dropping his guard. It was obvious that Skye was walking a razor's edge of emotions right now. He clapped a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to usher her back towards the house. "Come on…you made your point. You don't have to do this. "

"Yeah…okay, Bobby. I'm done…" Skye nodded. She didn't need Cassie working her up over nothing.

"Okay, so maybe I had no right to say what I did over the phone. I didn't realise things were so…_serious_." Cassie raised her voice to catch Skye's attention, her gaze settling pointedly on Skye's pregnant belly as she turned back around. "I mean. It's not like Dean's ever been the settling down type. I figured you were just the latest…"

The latest? Those two words and the snide way they had been said towards her, had Skye seeing red. Who did Cassie think she was? Dean was staring down Hell for Skye…and she wasn't willing to lose him to that, never mind some ex girlfriend who should have quit while she was ahead. There was too much in this world trying to take Dean away from her. And not just Dean, but the baby too.

So much had happened in the last few days alone and Skye was fed up with feeling like an emotional chew toy. As though anything and everything she did was doomed to just fall apart in front of her. It felt like Dean was slipping through her fingers, as if all her dreams of sharing a life with him and the baby -- with Connor -- were slipping away from her. Skye knew it was time to make a stand. If you weren't willing to fight for what you loved in this world? Then what the hell was the point of anything?

Time seemed to slow down for Skye as she pulled away from Bobby and stormed towards Cassie. Snapping out a punch that would have made Dean proud and had both Bobby and John surprised with it's speed, Skye connected with Cassie's jaw. The blow snapped Cassie's head back violently and forced her to stumble back a step to keep her balance, her fists instantly rising to defend herself.

"Bobby!" John growled, on the move to stop anything else happening.

"I got her! I got her!" Bobby replied angrily, dragging Skye bodily away from Cassie before another punch could be thrown from either party. But he hadn't counted on Skye being so damn worked up. She tried to push herself past Bobby, flailing and trying to strike out with a strength that had the older hunter fighting to control her. "Dammit, Skye, knock it off!"

"Not a chance! I'll take her fucking head off, Bobby! Did you hear what she said? She thinks I'm letting her get away with that?" Skye raged, pushing back against his arms and struggling to get out of his iron like grip.

"Get Skye inside, Bobby…I'll handle this." John instructed, his tone dark and angry.

Bobby succeeded in catching hold of Skye's wrists, forcing her to calm down and catch her breathe again. "You 'bout done? Cause I'm not driving you all the way back to Pine Ridge, dammit. You're not putting your son through that again, Skye, you hear me?" There was a set to Bobby's jaw, his eyes raw with emotion, pleading with her.

It was as if the world had been spinning wildly and was finally slowing down again, everything coming back into focus. Skye's hands slid down to her belly, wrapping around as though they could shield the life inside her. What had she been thinking? No…that was the problem, Skye hadn't been thinking. She had simply seen red and lashed out. But the baby couldn't afford her to act so impulsively. She had to protect her baby…she had to protect Connor. Her little boy had been so lost and scared, so small at that hospital. Skye couldn't bear the thought of him being put through that again. "I hear you…I'm okay. It's okay, Bobby. "

"No, it ain't okay. But you ain't alone in this either. So take a breath, calm the hell down and let's go inside before Dean comes out looking for you and I'm playing fucking referee again."

Skye shot Cassie one last venomous glare, before the fight blew out of her completely and she nodded. "Alright, alright…I'm sorry." She leaned into Bobby a little as he slung an arm across her shoulders and steered her back inside.

"Just go easy on an old man next time, will ya? I bruise easily these days…" Bobby offered a wry smile.

"What the hell, John? She hit me! You saw that, she fucking hit me!" Cassie was furious, touching her lip and finding blood on her fingers. "I'm bleeding too? Oh that's just great."

"Calm down. It's nothing that an icepack won't cure." John, bristling at the overly familiar way she had said his name. After what she had done? He was anything but sympathetic to her problem. "You goaded her, Cassie, how did you expect her to react?"

"It's assault, that's what it is! She assaulted me! I'll have her charged. I'll have the police down here, asking questions. That's not exactly you want is it?"

John's eyes flashed golden then, cat-like as he snarled and let Cassie finally have a long hard look at the wings that jutted out angrily from his shoulder blades.

Cassie clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a scream, stumbling backwards in shock at the sight before her. "What…what are you? That's…that's impossible."

"Is it? You looked around at the world lately? " John informed her hotly, his wings snapping and shuddering with fury behind him as he stalked towards the girl, his demon side relishing the fear in her eyes. This stupid, selfish girl had hurt Dean before and John would be damned again before he allowed her to do it again. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that I'd let you do anything that'll hurt my family, Cassie. Now you get back in your car, you put this place in your rear view mirror and we forget any of this ever happened."

Cassie was already backing up towards her car, her mind trying to make sense of what her eyes were showing her. Oh god, was that why Dean had been able to withstand those burns? Was he…was he like that? Was there something wrong with him? Was he some kind of monster like this thing before her? Was his father always like this? Or was this because of the change in the world after those supposed terrorist attacks? Cassie wasn't fooled by the Governments stance on what had happened.

But so many questions were battering Cassie's senses, her heart galloping in her chest as her body went into fight or flight mode and flight was chosen. Her back connected with her door and she turned quickly, fumbling for the door handle in a panic. There had to be answers for what she was seeing here and Cassie would find them. She had to. She needed to make sense of this somehow. The reporter within her was rushing to the surface in the absence of logic.

John's words came back to Cassie as she slid behind the wheel. Just what had happened to the world? What was the truth beneath all those cover stories? It was time to take off the blinkers and really look at the world with the eyes she'd found after the death of her father.

Standing in front of the gate, illuminated by the headlights like some hellish gargoyle guarding his church, John remained stock still until he saw Cassie's car reverse away and disappear into the night. Even then, he remained where he was, listening to the night air, picking up on the slightest changes around him and not moving a foot towards the house until he was confident that it was secure.

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

"Hey…everything alright out there?"

Bobby and Skye looked up as they entered the house, to see Dean stumbling down the stairs, half asleep and looking washed out and exhausted. Now that he was home and his guard was down, his body had begun to heal faster, drawing on what reserves he'd had left and making Dean all the more aware of what he had put it through. He was tired, his body was tired and demanding more than he was used to giving.

"Dean? Where's Connor?" Skye stepped forward then. She'd left him asleep with Connor in the living room. Had he seen Cassie outside? God, the last thing she needed was Dean worrying about what had happened out there and about her. His appearance was so drawn and weary looking at that moment and Skye was even more determined to protect him from anything he didn't need to deal with right now.

"He's fine. I just put him to bed. You sure everything's okay? I thought I heard a car outside? Someone here?" Dean rubbed sleepily at his eye with a knuckle as he yawned, looking years younger than he was.

"It was just an old hunter I knew before I met your Dad. No one you know, son." Bobby cut in, taking the heat off of Skye and earning himself a grateful smile in return. "How about you two take yourselves on up to bed and get some sleep? We can talk more in the morning."

Skye leaned forward and gave Bobby a quick kiss of the cheek before whispering "_Thank you_" in his ear. Pulling away again, she took Dean's hand, squeezing it softly as he led her up the stairs.

"You sure everything's okay?"

"I'm sure, quit worrying. " Skye assured him, glancing back over her shoulder at Bobby and catching his wink. She rubbed Dean's back as they walked to the room, hiding the bruises on her knuckles. That punch had felt good and Skye wouldn't hesitate to throw another at Cassie if she had to. Anything to protect her own.

**xxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Wall, South Dakota. **

Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Sam was sure that he would be able to see a fly's wings in motion if he had wanted to. His heart beat was heavy in his ears, like the slow thunderous approach of the T-Rex in that Jurassic Park movie Dean loved watching.

Had he made a monumental mistake here in proposing to Elise? Maybe it was too soon? Maybe too much had happened recently and he was just compounding her fears of everything, but pushing this on her? Maybe Sam had just misread everything and Elise wasn't the type to marry at all?

His food was long forgotten and getting colder by the minute. Not that it mattered, since Sam was pretty sure he wouldn't keep a bite of it down now. His gaze was locked on Elise, seeing the way the blood had left her face, her pupils dilated slightly, her bottom lip pulled in as she chewed it nervously.

"Elise? You…are you okay?"

"Yeah.." The word was shaky, sounding anything but what Elise wanted it to sound like. Anything but an affirmation that she wasn't about to freak out over the question. "I…I just don't know what to say, Sam."

"Say yes?" Sam lifted an eyebrow hopefully as a small nervous smile followed. Everything hinged on this moment and already, he could see that this had been a bad idea. It was time for damage control before he completely ruined things between them. The last thing Sam wanted was to make Elise uncomfortable around him. "I shouldn't have asked. Look, forget it. It…it was a stupid spur of the moment thi--.."

Elise's eyes widened as Sam began to babble, her hand shooting out and grabbing his wrist as Sam stood up and turned to move away. "Yes! Oh, shit…Sam, yes! I wasn't turning you down!"

Sam paused and slowly crouched down again, his heart beating even faster now. "Wait…did you just say-?"

"Yes, you bloody idiot!" Elise laughed, throwing her arms around Sam's neck now that he was in front of her again, all the previous tension that had been building was blown away in a cascade of carefree laughter and excitement. "Of course I'll marry you - you just caught me off guard, that's all. It took my brain a second for it to sink in."

Everything Elise had just said was spinning and twirling through Sam's mind like a tornado, obliterating all thought and the ability to speak at that moment. Instead he merely cupped one hand behind her head and pulled Elise in for a hard, breathtaking kiss. It was searing and passionate, deepening as Sam lifted Elise up into his arms, ignoring the pull on his wounds - lost in the moment, in the belief that there was nothing or no one else in the world right then, but themselves.

Elise took the hat off Sam's head as he carried her towards the bed, sitting it on her own head, her smile wide and beaming, her eyes locked onto Sam and Sam only. She couldn't take her eyes away from the smile on his face, the way it lit up everything and made him shine in that moment with such hope. It took her breathe away to realise she was the cause of that hope, that smile, the light in his eyes. The darkness was gone…and in it's place was nothing but a guy with his whole life before him.

Lowering Elise to the bed as though she was made from the finest china, Sam loomed over the top of her, a wicked smile gracing his lips before he dived in and started to kiss along the underside of Elise's neck. Tonight it would be slow, loving and everything they needed.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Several hours later…..**

"You know? Not many people could say they'd eaten breakfast at the foot of a dinosaur." Elise nudged Sam gently in the ribs as they sat on the front of the Impala, looking at the eighty foot long green Apatosaurus that still reminded visitors to turn off the highway and visit Wall Drug. A brown paper bag was resting beside Sam, containing the remains of the bagels he'd bought them earlier. Now he was quietly sipping his coffee with Elise, stealing glances over at the ring on her finger and smiling. He looked exhausted, but the smile that kept growing on his lips every time he saw the ring and thought of Elise's answer? Was golden.

It had taken Sam ages to fall asleep in the end. Elise had been curled into his side, her arm draped over his chest while he held her close, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head. Feeling like he could shield her from the world for a little while, something that he hadn't been given a chance to do with Jess. It had been so different with Jess, because he had kept her oblivious to so much in his life. Hoping to keep her safe and in the end? He'd lost it all.

But not this time. This time he was going into the future with Elise aware of his past, of who he was and what he could do. They were equals and the knowledge of that, gave Sam strength.

Of course, none of that had helped him at four in the morning, when Sam had wanted to call Dean, only to realise that his brother's phone was lost in the fire at the Baskell's house. An attempt to call Skye's phone had brought nothing but voicemail. In the end, Sam had resigned himself to the fact he wasn't going to be sharing his good news with Dean and Dad just yet.

It was better that way anyway. Because he wanted to see their faces, gauge their reactions to the news.

Elise had been watching Sam all morning, ever since she had awoken to find herself alone in the bed, because Sam was already up making coffee. There was a restlessness to him now, a look in his eyes and she knew exactly what it was.

"Hey, you know what we need?" Elise nudged Sam again gently.

"What?"

"Some holiday snaps of you with that dinosaur…for Dean. You can't tell me that Dean wouldn't take one look at that bloody thing and turn in a big kid?" Elise was smiling at the thought. It was an image she'd actually like to see, for Sam's sake as well as Dean's.

Sam had to admit, Dean would love this thing. He'd have probably tried to climb it by now, simply because something like this tended to bring the big kid out in Dean. There were times when Sam wondered if his brother would ever grow up…and yet, he had seen too many times when Dean had looked older than he ever should. The weight of the world on his shoulders. Dean had been robbed of his childhood for the most part and it was hard to find a balance with the lives they led. Now that Hell was looming closer for his brother, Sam realised that he had to take any chance to make Dean smile.

"Alright, let's do this." Sam slid off the hood of the Impala as about to walk over to one of the Apatosaurus' huge feet when Elise grabbed his arm.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on, Sam. We have to do this right."

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile as the cowboy hat was slapped back on his head again. Images of Elise wearing it last night filled his mind and Sam was grinning ear from ear by the time he posed at the foot of the dinosaur.

Elise snapped off a couple of shots with her disposable camera. "Come on, Sam…we're the only ones out here, you know! Get the stick out of your arse and give me some decent shots, will you?"

It took another few moments of awkwardness, before Sam realised Elise was right. There was no one else around, so what was he worried about? He tipped his hat back on his head and dropped to the ground, suddenly yelping and flailing as if the Apatosaurus was about to step on him. It was all Elise could do, not to screw up the shots as she snapped photo after photo while laughing.

Sam screaming in mock terror.

Sam pretending to run for his life.

Sam trying to pick up the dinosaur.

Snapshot after snapshot until Sam dusted himself off and walked back to the Impala, grabbing the camera out of Elise's hands with a grin. " Come here."

Wrapping one long arm around Elise's tiny waist, Sam dragged her onto his lap as he sat down on the front of the Impala. Holding the camera up in front of them both with one hand, Sam snapped off a set of photos of him with Elise snuggled in close until finally, the film was empty.

"Now what? We've had breakfast and played tourist… where did you want to go now? The Badlands are pretty close. We could have a look at them? Maybe take in Mount Rushmore too?" Sam suggested, realising that he was as much of a tourist to his nations own monuments, as Elise was. Maybe after he had saved Dean from the deal, they'd finally check out the Grand Canyon? Take some time for a holiday with the girls and show Connor and the new baby the sights?

Something normal for once.

Elise looked at Sam, knowing that he would take her anywhere right now. Just the two of them, no danger, nothing to worry about but themselves and taking the time to relax and enjoy their time together. But deep within those gorgeous hazel eyes she loved so much, there was a longing that she wasn't going to deny any longer. Reaching up to kiss him warmly on the lips, Elise smiled. "First? We head back into town and get that film processed. And then we head home…"

Sam blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the comment. "Wait - what? You…are you serious? You want to go back home? You're talking about Bobby's right?"

"No - I expect you to bloody well drive me to Australia." Elise rolled her eyes and laughed. " Yes, Sam…Bobby's." She captured his lips again with another soft kiss. "You need to go home. We both do. So come on…get your arse into gear."

Sam held onto Elise for a moment longer, pulling her into an embrace and just holding her close, breathing in her scent and taking this last moment just for themselves. Finally, he let Elise go and nodded. "Okay, let's go home."

**xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx**

**Kyle, South Dakota **

"Oh honey, be careful!!" Skye fought the urge to cover her eyes and instead, forced herself to smile and wave to her son as he slid without a care, face first down the slide. He was up again instantly, brushing dirt off himself, grinning widely and giggling as he turned and ran for the steps again, determined to launch himself back down the slide at Mach one.

Parks were supposed to be fun places to relax, but Skye wasn't so sure about that. She was pretty sure Connor was going to send her grey by the time he was four. Even though that was only a few months away, he seemed to have grown so much already from the little baby she had once held in her arms.

"Relax, will you? He's fine. Look at him, he's having a ball with the other kids and we're what? Fifteen, twenty feet away? Nothing's going to happen to him, Skye." Dean smiled as he took another draw on the bottle of beer in his hand. He was stretched out on a blanket with Skye, a neatly packed picnic lunch laid out in front of them. All around them, other kids were playing, families were having picnics of their own. It was the sort of scene Dean needed right now after that hunt. Clearing his head of the deaths and reminding him that life went on.

"I know he's fine. But does he have to throw himself down that slide? I don't want this picnic ended with a busted lip or a bloody nose thanks to him taking a mouthful of sand at the bottom, you know?" Skye explained as she leaned back against Dean. She couldn't help but worry sometimes. It was just in her nature. Maybe it was better not to look at all, ignorance was bliss after all.

Dean slid a hand around, resting it on Skye's belly and smiling as he felt the baby kicking up a storm. "Whoa, someone's awake huh? That has to be the weirdest feeling for you. Does it hurt?"

"Only if he decides to put his feet under my ribs and throw a handstand…usually when I'm trying to eat dinner. This kid has impeccable timing…" Skye smiled, placing her hand over Dean's and letting their fingers thread together.

"He? You're going along with my theory that we're having a son?" Dean arched an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well…I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. If it is a boy? We'll just have to try again until I get my girl." Skye teased, tilting her head back to look up at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "Man…work, work, work. You're such a slave driver. How am I ever meant to enjoy myself with all that hard work ahead of me?" He laughed deeply as Skye smacked him on the arm and giggled.

Shifting around, Dean lowered Skye to the blanket and leaned in, kissing her softly before he snuck teasing little kisses along her jaw and nibbling at her earlobe gently. "Might have to get in a little practice round…"

Skye could barely contain the rumble of pleasure that shook her, her eyes closed, she tipped her head back more to expose her neck to Dean's attentive kisses. It was so good, so right…but maybe not right now, with a park full of people around them. Gently putting her hands to his chest, Skye pushed Dean away with a small frustrated sigh of regret. "Easy, tiger…I'm not that fond of an audience. Besides, we'd ending paying the therapy bills for half the kids in this park."

Dean sat back, chuckling to himself. "Alright, I'll behave, but you can't blame a guy for trying, right? I feel like I've been away forever…not just a couple of weeks." He put on a mock pout, knowing all too well that Sam didn't have the monopoly on winning girls over with his puppy eyes.

Except that it didn't seem to working. Skye was sat up, looking worried.

"Dean? Dean…where's Connor? I can't see him."

"What do you mean?" Dean scoffed lightly as he turned around, already sweeping the play equipment himself. "He's right - there?" There was no sign of the familiar little blonde head anywhere.

Skye was already struggling to her feet, her heart going from a jog to a full out sprint in her chest, the longer she searched the play ground and came up empty. "No, no, no, no…this isn't happening. Dean, where is he? I…I can't see him. Why can't I see him?" She was on the move then, heading towards the slide. "Connor!!"

"Skye, wait!" Dean jogged after her and caught her gently by the arm. "Hey! Calm down, okay? He's here. He has to be. I'll go this way…you check over there. We'll do a lap and meet on the other side, okay?"

"Okay." Skye nodded, her eyes already shining with unshed tears.

Dean pulled her into a quick hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll find him. I promise. I'll meet you…okay? Try to stay calm." Yeah…cause that was so easy when your kid was missing, right? How many times had Dean panicked over the years as a kid, when Sam had been late showing up from school or had disappeared in some Walmart? The fear hit you in the chest, slamming the heart into overdrive and the brain into a blind panic that raced at a million miles an hour as it played various scenarios of what could have happened.

Add in all the supernatural reasons Dean could think of too - and it was a recipe for complete, blinding panic. What if Yellow Eyes had gone after him? Or something else? Something Dean couldn't even think of right now? He circled the park, scanning faces and calling Connor's name over and over, his voice deepening as the fear really began to take hold. What if they didn't find him? What if something really had happened? How the hell could face Skye?

Panic was rising within Dean, making him check every face twice, his heartbeat heavy in his ears as desperation began to fill his gut. He had to find him. Connor had to be here somewhere.

And then, just as Dean was sure he would have to circle back, that he must have missed something, that maybe he would need to start looking further and further out in case some sicko had stolen him…there was a flash of blonde near the small ice cream stall that had set up shop near the parking lot.

"Connor!!" Dean was already rushing forward, even as Connor's name left his lips.

"Daddy!! I got ice cream!! She bought me ice cream!" Connor was beaming from ear to ear as he held up his ice cream cone for Dean to see. The woman standing beside Connor, holding his hand, was Cassie.

Relief, anger, a whole carnival of emotions were swirling and dancing through him as he reached the little boy, dropping to his knees and grabbing Connor by the shoulders, shaking him. "What the hell, Connor? What were thinking? You don't take off like that! You hear me? Don't ever do that again!"

The ice cream tumbled from Connor's hand, the little boy looking stricken at first before his face started to crumple, hot tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. He'd never known Dean to ever raise his voice to him like that. Connor's bottom lip trembled as he fought a losing battle not to cry.

Dean pulled Connor into a tight hug, trying not to let his mind fill with all the possibilities of what could have happened. He was safe now. That was what mattered. He could see that he had scared Connor badly with his reaction and it wasn't even the kid's fault. " It's okay, little dude…it's okay. I'm sorry I yelled…"

"CONNOR!!"

Dean stood and looked over his shoulder, seeing Skye rushing towards them as fast as she could manage at her stage of the pregnancy.

Connor pulled free of Dean and raced to his mom, burying his face against her leg as he sobbed still. "Dean's mad with me…"

Hearing Connor use his name, instead of calling him Daddy caused a small ache to form in Dean's chest. It was like all the times when they were kids and Sam would take it to heart when Dean snapped at him in a moment of stress about whether Dad would be home. Dean moved to block Skye's path as he saw the anger flare in Skye towards Cassie. "He's fine, Skye…he's just fine. Take it easy."

Skye scooped Connor up in her arms, struggling with his size, but refusing to let him out of her arms. Her heart was still pounding wildly in her chest. She'd been going out of her mind with worry and all Skye wanted to do was hold Connor close and never let go. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I dropped my ice cweam…" Conner's lip wobbled as he spoke, tears still dripping down his cheeks, making him a picture of misery as his large eyes watched his Mom. "Mommy mad with Connor too?"

"No, baby, it's okay. Just don't scare Mommy like that again, okay? I didn't know where you were. I thought something had happened to you." Skye assured him, her voice shaking still. Her gaze locked onto Cassie and everything seemed to still within Skye, like the calm before the storm, as she gently lowered Connor to the ground, clutching his hand protectively.

"Skye? Don't. I'll deal with it. I've got this." Dean kept himself between Skye and Cassie.

"Got this? Are you saying she took my son? She scared the hell out of me, Dean!" Skye's voice was rising by the second and it was only Dean's hands gently gripping her arms that drew her out of her anger for a moment, allowing it to cool as she locked eyes with Dean.

"Listen to me. I will deal with this. Take Connor and start packing up the picnic. I just need a moment here."

"No… I'm not letting her do this to us. I'll give her another fat lip if I have to."

Dean's eyes narrowed then, glancing down the bruised knuckles on Skye's hand. "You told me you caught your hand on the corner of a table."

"I lied." Skye shrugged, the movement tight and jerky, fire in her eyes as she looked towards Cassie.

"Skye. Hey! Listen to me. I'll deal with this. Please. Just take Connor back to our blanket and meet me at the car. Can you do that for me?" Dean tried to catch Skye's gaze to read her eyes.

"And what about her?"

"Trust me. She's not going to be a problem." Dean assured her, his green eyes darkening with his own anger as he thought about the panic over Connor's disappearance. "You and Connor, you're my family. You think I'm going to let her hurt either of you? Ever?"

That was enough for Skye. For all the things that had ever happened, Dean had never lied to her. He would never risk Connor. It was time to withdraw and leave this up to him. "Don't be long."

" I won't be." Dean nodded, watching Skye take Connor's hand firmly as she headed back to where they had been sat so peacefully not so long ago. It had been a perfect, relaxed family moment - the sort of moment that Dean had always imagined his own parents enjoying before Yellow Eyes ruined everything…

The darkness swirling within Dean's angry green orbs as he turned back to face Cassie, had her taking a step backwards. There was a stillness to Dean, a dangerous, dark stillness that spoke of barely contained rage and violence. It was the sort of look that Cassie could imagine him showing something that had hurt his brother…something he hunted. Despite all the fights they'd had in Athens, Ohio before Cassie had broken his heart, all the times they had clashed and tore at each other in pain and misunderstanding - the look she was seeing now was something new.

"It's time we talked." Each word was clipped, spoke through a tight, clenched jaw as Dean grabbed Cassie's arm with a grip she felt was sure to leave bruises as she was dragged towards the parking lot.

"Dean! Dean, you're hurting me!" Cassie snapped, fighting a futile battle to free herself. Finally as she reached the edge of the parking lot, she was able to wrench her arm free, shoving Dean away from her angrily. "I said you're hurting me!"

Dean rounded on her before Cassie had time to even realise he was on the move, grabbing her by the arms again and dragging her face to face with him. "What the _fuck _did you think you were doing back there?"

"What? I bought the kid some ice cream, Dean. I didn't realise it would such a huge deal. He's your son…you know me. What's the issue here?" Cassie replied coolly, trying to pull back.

"The issue? You're kidding me, right? What the hell did you think was going to happen, Cassie? You take Connor and expect me to be okay with that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I needed to talk to you!" Cassie's voice was higher, more pleading as she tried to get Dean to listen to her. "I tried to see you last night, I needed to see you - but they wouldn't let me in. Your Dad and his friend kept stonewalling me until your girlfriend turned up. She's got quite a right hook! You teach her that yourself?"

"That was you last night at Bobby's?" The pieces were all falling into place now. The state of Skye's knuckles, Bobby and Skye's behaviour…it all made sense.

"They didn't even tell you, did they?" Cassie face was pinched with annoyance. "So what happened?"

"With what? God, I feel like I'm having half a conversation here with you right now! How about we assume I know nothing and you fill in the blanks for me, huh?" Dean growled, rapidly losing what little patience he'd had.

Cassie pulled herself free from Dean again, folding her arms across her chest as she studied him and for just a moment, a look of utter distaste crossing her face. "Your father. What happened to him? Was he always…whatever he is? With the wings? Is that why you were able to heal from those burns faster than anyone should? What is it? Genetic? Or have you been hunting so long that you're becoming what you kill? If you stare into the abyss -…"

"I know how that saying goes, Cassie." Dean growled, anger coiling through his body like tendrils. "And you have no idea what my family has been through - so shut your mouth. My father's a hero. You hear me? He's given everything for his family…everything. So you don't get to talk about him that way and you _don't…" _He moved into Cassie's personal space again, making her draw back, watching her pupils dilate with fear. "…Ever go near my son or my family again. What we had? It's over. It's been over since you said we had no future. You were the one that closed that door. Now it's my turn to move on. I've got a family now. And I don't have time for any of this shit, you hear me?"

There was a note of desperation in Dean's voice that caught Cassie's attention. It was almost as if time was an issue. As if it was genuinely running out for him. "What do you mean? Dean? What is it?"

"It's none of your damn business, that's what." Dean closed the conversation down before it went any further. His deal had nothing to do with Cassie and he didn't owe her any explanations. "Get out of town, Cassie. Go do whatever the hell it is you do, but do it somewhere else, okay? I don't want you here, I don't need you hanging around me. It's that simple."

"Simple? Things have never been simple with us, Dean. You know that." Cassie's eyes were wounded as she looked at him now.

There had been a time that the look would have worked on him. When Dean would have felt like an asshole for everything he had just said. But not anymore. He didn't have time to play emotional tug of war between his past and the life he wanted to have with Skye.

"How about I make it simple? Stay away from me, stay away from my family. Or else." Dean fixed Cassie with a look that made it clear he would back up that threat, before he turned and marched back across the parking lot towards Skye and Connor.

Cassie watched from a distance, feeling her heart sink as she watched Dean kiss Skye before scooping Connor up in his arms and sliding the little boy into the back of an old, battered Chevelle. There was something so tender about Dean in that moment. It was a complete contrast to the cocky, brash young man she had met back in Athens who had been hiding a world of hurt and secrets behind those dazzling green eyes. It was a side she hadn't seen in Dean before, but it was obvious that it had always been there, buried beneath the hunter he was.

As the Chevelle pulled out of the parking lot a little while later, Cassie watched it go before she turned and headed for her own car at last. She would put some distance between them for now. Dean had made himself clear and Cassie wanted to clear her own mind, purge herself of the feelings she had been stupid in harbouring all this time. It was time to investigate the world around her more and find out what was really happening. There was a story out there…now she had to find it.

**xxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxx**

The silence was beginning to ring in Dean's ears as nothing but the throaty purr of the Chevelle's engine stirred the air around him. The car looked like battered hell, but Bobby knew how to keep it running sweet and reliable…although it was still a poor substitute for the Impala. Dean shifted in the seat, hearing the old leather creak slightly as he glanced in the rear view mirror at Connor.

The little boy lifted his head, his eyes wide and solemn as his soft voice carried over from the back seat. "Dean mad at Connor?"

Shit. Dean still. Not Daddy. He must have really scared Connor and that sat badly, churning his stomach even though he knew it wasn't likely for Connor to ever do something like that again after a scare like that. But it hadn't really been the kid's fault either. He was four. Hell, Dean would have done the same thing at that age. "What? No, dude…I'm not mad with you. You scared me, that's all."

Connor considered that for a moment, watching his mom stare out the window as she had been doing since they left the park.

"Mommy mad at Connor?"

Dean glanced over at Skye for a moment, frowning slightly before he shook his head at her cold shoulder towards him. "I think Mommy's mad with me, dude. Not you. Hey, how about I get you some more ice cream when we get home?" Dean offered, arching an eyebrow as he waited to see if he was offering enough of an olive branch.

"Can I have choc'lit spwinkles on it?" Connor's voice became a little higher as he grew excited.

Dean smiled then, pleased that at least some in the car wasn't pissed with him over what had happened. "Sure you can! And then maybe we can talk about you not talking to strangers, huh?"

Connor shook his head, his face folding up with confusion. "Not Daddy's friend?"

How the hell was Dean supposed to explain to Connor, not just normal stranger danger, but that there were dangers out there that wore the face of someone you loved? How did you keep your family safe against everything that could hurt them without losing your mind?

"Just promise me you won't go doing that again, okay?" Dean caught Connor's solemn nod in the mirror reflection. "That's good, dude…that's real good." He reached out towards the Chevelle's radio, flipping through stations, trying to find remotely worth listening to, before he gave up with a sigh and slumped back in his seat, glancing at Skye. "So am I getting the silent treatment all the way home?"

Silence was the only answer.

"Were you ever planning on telling me about Cassie showing up at Bobby's?"

"No." Skye finally answered quietly.

"So…what? You figured you'd just play Mike Tyson again the next time Cassie showed up until she got the message?"

"Is there going to be a next time?" Skye looked at Dean sharply, seeming to almost hold her breath as she waited for his answer.

"No! No, there's not. I told you I'd deal with it. Skye…what the hell were you thinking? You're throwing punches now? Risking a fight? Risking the baby?"

"What do you want me to do, Dean? Sit back and watch? Let her come in and take you away from me? If we don't stop that deal -…" Skye let the rest drop, not wanting to say anything out loud in front of Connor. "It feels like everything is trying to take you away from me right now. Cassie was the one thing I could actually do something about. I could make it clear for once…just for one moment…that you belong with me."

"Skye…"

"No, dammit! I'm not doing it anymore, Dean! I could live in a plastic bubble away from all of this and Azazel would still find me! He could come after our baby again. He could take Connor from me! He's already taking you! It feels like there's nothing I can do to keep my family safe and you can't - you can't just expect me sit on my hands and do nothing." Skye snapped, tears brimming her eyes as her frustration finally reached breaking point. " That bitch asked for everything she got! She should count herself lucky that I'm pregnant and Bobby's quick on his feet or it would have been more than some dented pride and a busted lip to worry about."

Dean glanced briefly in the rear view mirror again, watching as Connor started to draw in on himself, his lip trembling again, before his attention went back to Skye. "You seriously want to do this right now?"

"I don't want to do this at all…." Skye muttered darkly, turning away again to stare back out the window.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it."

"You're kidding me, right? You say something like that, then tell me to forget it? No way…it's not happening. What the hell did that mean?"

"Nothing!" Skye rounded on Dean again, snapping angrily. "It didn't mean anything, alright? I'm just…"

"Just what?"

"Scared!" The word cracked through the car like a gun shot. Skye's hands were clenched into fists in her lap, angry tears spilling from her eyes before she seemed to just deflate, a defeated look creeping into replace the anger that had been burning there just moments before. "I keep trying to tell myself that it won't happen…but I can't, Dean. In a few months, you could gone and I'm still here. I'm left behind to raise this baby and raise Connor without you. I keep trying to look past it and focus on the birth of our baby and I just keep coming back to how I don't want to do this without you."

Dean couldn't hold Skye's gaze at that moment, seeing the pain, the despair growing in her eyes. He turned back to the road before him, his hands white knuckled on the wheel, his jaw tight. He'd know this was coming. Skye was simply voice the same fears he had. The same thoughts and emotions that had been plaguing him for months now.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you like that. I'm tired and I'm scared…"

"Sometimes it feels like you can't breathe…doesn't it? It's like there's this clock ticking in my head. Every day…getting louder and louder." Dean added, looking over at Skye again as he turned the Chevelle into the long drive way towards Bobby's. "I don't want to die. I don't. I want to watch our baby grow up…I want to be here for it all and have a life that sometimes feels so alien to me? It scares the shit out of me more than anything I hunt."

Pulling the Chevelle up near the house, Dean switched off the engine and turned slightly in his seat. He reached over and took Skye's hand, looking at her earnestly. "Whatever it takes? I'm going to find a way out of this. Okay? I'm going to beat this."

"I know." Skye nodded, fresh tears flooding down her cheeks even as she managed a broken smile. "I know you will."

Dean leaned over across the front seat and pulled Skye close enough to kiss her, feeling the tension bleeding away from her as the kiss unfolded. When he finally drew back, he shot Connor a smile that had the little boy's face opening up again with hope. "I promised you ice cream…right? Let's go see what Bobby's got…"

The beaming smile Dean received from Connor was everything he needed right at that moment.

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxxx**

There was the sound of cursing and tools being thrown around from one of the rows of wrecked cars as Dean carried Connor up onto the porch with Skye. Bobby had apparently decided to distract himself with some work…maybe an order had come in? Business had slowly been picking up again for the Auto yard in the last few weeks as the world seemed to find it's way again.

They made their way inside where Skye paused by the stairs, gently grabbing Dean by the arm to catch his attention. Her smile was quiet and Dean could see straight away that she looked wrung out and exhausted now.

"I think I'll go and lie down. You okay with Connor?"

"Are you kidding me? We've got a date with ice cream and sprinkles, right little dude?" Dean said, grinning as Connor nodded excitedly in his arms. He caught Skye's lips with a quick kiss, then hefted Connor up a little higher in his arms. "To the kitchen and some man sized bowls of ice cream!"

Skye shook her head at the pair, laughing quietly as she headed up the stairs towards her bedroom.

Dean carried Connor into the kitchen and deposited him in a chair, then set about pulling out a huge bowl before taking the ice cream from the freezer and the sprinkles from the pantry. He served up an amount that was likely to have Connor bouncing off the walls for hours on a sugar high…but after what the kid had just been through in the car? Dean figured he was due some indulgence.

"You planning on sitting up through the night when Connor has a stomach ache from all that ice cream?"

"I was thinking I'd ask you for advice about that." Dean smirked at his father as John entered the kitchen. The older hunter headed straight for the coffee pot, looking gritty around the edges in a familiar way that Dean knew stemmed from too much research and not enough sleep.

"How's that?" John half turned as he continued to fill up his cup.

"Sam's third grade Christmas play. Remember? He was the donkey? You were chasing down that revenant two towns over and ended up getting to the play about fifteen minutes before it ended. Man, did Sammy put the puppy eyes on you that night. Just how many ice creams sundaes did you end up buying him?"

"Too many…" John admitted with a rueful smile, recalling it like it was only yesterday. He tended to keep memories of the normal moments, the good moments with his boys - close to his heart. John leaned back against the counter behind him, watching his son, picking up on the cues he'd watched all his life that indicated when Dean was beating himself about something. "What happened out there?"

Dean hesitated, not wanting to bring it up in front of Connor again. "Hey…you wanna watch one of your movies while you eat that, buddy?"

"'Kay!" Connor yelped excitedly, scrambling down from his seat and snatching up the bowl off the table before he bolted for the other room.

"He puts that ice cream anywhere but in his mouth and Bobby'll have your ass." John warned with a small grin.

"I'll take my chances…" Dean shrugged, putting the ice cream back and grabbing himself a beer from the fridge. He cracked the cap and slugged back a good portion of the beer, feeling his father's steady eye on him still. There'd be no prying, but it was obvious that John was looking for answers when Dean was ready to give them. Dean faltered again, shying away from the thought of opening up to his father about his fears, displaying that weakness.

Pulling out a chair, Dean swung it around and straddled it, resting his arms and his beer on the top of the backrest. He took another mouthful, sighing before he explained to his father about Cassie's appearance at the park and the way Skye had reacted…all while avoiding saying how Cassie had spoken of his father. That had hurt enough without Dean needing to see his father's reaction to being called a monster.

"What the hell was I thinking, Dad? I shouldn't have taken that hunt. My deals counting down and what the hell have I done about it? I'm out there with Cassie, risking my ass for strangers still?" Dean said, scowling before he slugged back the rest of his beer.

"You were doing what I've always raised you to do, Dean. Saving lives."

"I'm risking my neck for people that don't even know I exist, Dad."

"It's always been a thankless job, Dean. You know that. You've always known that. But we're not superheroes - we don't do this to get recognition. We do it to save lives. If you'd walked away from that hunt, how many families would have died? They're safe cause you did what you had to." John put his coffee down and pointed towards the other room. "That little boy in there is alive because of what we do. Because you and Sam protected him and Skye from something that the rest of the world refuses to believe in. Are you going to sit there and tell me it wasn't worth it?"

"No! It's just…" Dean hesitated again, fumbling for the right words, scared to voice what he was feeling. How scared he was of dying. He'd taken the hunt, not only because it was all he knew, but because it was a buffer for him. A way to deny what was rushing towards him like a freight train. While he was hunting again? He could deny death. Pretend he was bullet proof.

But now he was back with Skye and Connor again, faced with breaking their hearts. Faced with breaking Sam's heart again if he died…and it scared the shit out of him. Dean knew all too well that hollow feeling inside when you lost someone. Losing his father had been the hardest thing Dean had ever faced in his life…and Skye's death had reopened the wound like something living clawing it's way into his chest to devour himself from the inside out.

Dean would hurt everyone he loved and he felt helpless to stop it. Sliding and tumbling down a ravine wall towards the gaping jaws of Hell itself without being able to save himself.

A hand fell on Dean's shoulder and he startled slightly, realising he'd lost himself in his thoughts and fears enough to have missed that his father was now standing beside him. John's wings were tucked in tightly against his back as he looked down at his son.

"We're doing everything we can, Dean. Bobby's calling in every favour he could ever cash in. And I've got a few ideas of my own." John smiled wryly for a moment before it slipped away to show nothing but honest determination shining in his eyes. "This fight isn't over. You're my boy…and I'm damn well not letting you go that easily. You hear me?"

"Yes sir." Dean nodded, looking up at John, his voice thick with emotion as he felt his father's hand squeeze his shoulder.

There was nothing but silence in the kitchen for a moment as John saw the raw pain, the real deep seated fear in his son's eyes. The years seemed to peel away, revealing Dean to him as the little boy John had once chased around the house as the Tickle Monster. The little boy with a beaming smile for his mother and a never ending supply of giggles. John remembered a time when his son looked to him for every answer, as though his father was some unstoppable force that could do anything. That faith was still burning in Dean's eyes now, but not as brightly as it once had and John blamed himself for that. For the burden he had been forced to place on Dean's shoulders in the hospital before he died.

Could he save Dean from Hell? From facing what John himself had suffered? John wanted to be sure about it…but the truth was? He wasn't. His options were running short and John was starting to feel real fear gnaw at his gut, that he would let his son down and lose him to something John never wanted his boys to know in any form.

A familiar, throaty purr could be heard out from the yard, growing closer and John couldn't hide his smile, stepping back as Dean's eyes changed instantly, the fear replaced with sheer excitement and relief as the younger hunter breathed the one name that had always calmed him. "Sammy…"

Getting up in a rush, Dean was out the door without another word, running for the porch with Connor pounding up the hallway, hot on his heels, yelling excitedly that the "'Pala's home! Uncle Sammy home!"

John gave them a moment, before he went out to see with his own eyes that his youngest son was safely home.

**xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

Sam had been able to sense Dean before they had even swung into Bobby's yard, but it wasn't until he locked eyes on his brother, that the tension bled away from Sam's body and a wide grin appeared. He climbed out of the Impala as Dean came out the door onto the porch, giving his brother a small nod before he walked around the front of the Impala.

Dean was still in motion as he reached his brother, throwing his arms around Sam and hugging him tightly, clapping his hand against Sam's back and just taking in that it was real. Sam was there in front of him. As Dean stepped back again though, his face was already schooled again, reigning in the knee weakening relief he felt at having his brother home. The psychic link they now shared was still nothing compared to Dean being able to physically lay his hand on his brother and know he was there.

"Uncle Sammy!" A small blonde blur suddenly rushed in, causing Sam to stumble slightly from the impact before he found himself with a four year old limpet attached firmly to his leg. He managed to pry Connor loose and hefted him up until the little boy was face to face.

"Where you been?" Connor demanded, placing his hands on either side of Sam's face before he leaned in and kissed him on the tip of his nose. "We missed you!"

"Is that right?" Sam laughed, hugging Connor before he let him sit on the Impala's hood beside him and arched an eyebrow at his brother.

"So you're done playing Bonnie and Clyde?" Dean asked Sam with a smirk as Elise climbed out of the Impala behind them. He couldn't help but notice the bandages on her wrists too, reminding him how bad it been out there for them both.

Elise gave Dean a quick embrace and then hugged and tickled Connor, watching as he wriggled away from her and then ran off laughing. Stepping back, Elise smiled as Sam slide an arm around her waist. "Aw, so you did miss us?"

"What? Miss this sasquatch?" Dean jerked a thumb towards his brother. "Not a chance. I'm warning you now, dude, if you've scratched my car?"

"Uhhh, Sam?" Elise face scrunched up uncomfortably. "Maybe we should tell him about the dent on the other side?"

"Elise!" Sam's eyes widened in panic. "I told you I was going to break it to him gently!"

"Sam…you'd better be freaking kidding me!" Dean growled, already making his way around the car, crouching down and scanning every inch for scratches and dents but finding nothing. The sound of giggling met his ears as Dean straightened up slowly.

" I don't believe it, Sam…you were right. That was way too easy." Elise laughed as she cupped a hand over his mouth to try and contain herself.

"Dude, you should have seen your face." Sam grinned, feeling like he could breathe again now that he was home with his family. Dean flipped him a middle finger that had Sam chuckling again. "The car's perfectly fine, Dean…I even detailed it for you."

"You did, huh?" Dean ran his hand over the Impala again with affection. Sam had past the test. When the time came? If the time came…then he knew Sam would look after the Impala the way she needed to be.

Sam turned to see his father standing patiently on the porch, watching the scene with a quiet smile on his face. "Hey Dad…"

"Hey, Sam. It's good to see you again." John said as he walked down the few steps to meet Sam, embracing him in a tight hug that they both knew was well over due. John knew his boys weren't children anymore, but they would always be his boys and there were times he wasn't sure he showed them just how much he loved them. Leaning back to take a closer took at Sam, noting the fading bruises around his eye and across his cheekbone, the bandages on his arms. Even the ever so slight hitch in Sam's step told John he would find more injuries there. That demon had tried to kill his son and John wanted to know it's name. "You dealt with that demon?"

"Yes sir. I even managed to save the guy it was in." Sam explained with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Good. I'm proud of you, Sam. How about we head inside? I want to hear about everything over dinner, okay?"

Dean could see Bobby approaching from the other side of the Auto yard with Connor all but bouncing beside the hunter as he wiped his hands on a greasy rag. Sam and Elise were already heading inside with John as Dean stayed before a moment longer, leaning against the Impala as he over the roof of the muscle car and looked up at the second storey. Skye was watching him, drawing a small wave from Dean before she disappeared from sight, aware at last that Sam and Elise were home.

Dean considered the odds in his favour. Sam had kicked a demon's ass. Dad had said he'd save him from Hell…and well, there wasn't much Bobby didn't know about demons.

For the first time in months, Dean allowed himself to start hoping again that could be a way out for him.

**xxxxxXXXXxxxxxxxx**

"Bobby? How are those chickens looking?" Skye called over her shoulder as she finished cutting up the last few tomatoes and carrots before adding them to the salad bowl in front of her. She didn't expect Dean to eat any of it, but she knew Sam would appreciate something a little less greasy.

"They look as good as they did the last time you asked me, five minutes ago." Bobby bellyached, hunched over the two baking trays of roast chicken. A set of oven mitts, both with the pattern of cartoon zebras on them, adorned his hands as Bobby carried each tray from the oven. He started carving the birds up, filling up a serving platter with chicken as Skye left her salad to mash up the huge pot of potato she had been cooking. It might have been Bobby's house and his kitchen, but Skye wasn't giving up cooking. At least, not now she was finally able to stomach the smell of cooked meat again. The nausea that had plagued her at first was finally past and she had enjoyed cooking up a storm for everyone tonight.

From the dining room, both Skye and Bobby could hear John and boys talking loudly, laughing, Elise managing to get a word in here and there, holding her own in the conversation. There had been talk of Sam and Elise's brush with Andras and of the hunt with the Baskells although Skye was pretty sure that both Sam and Dean had left out a lot, knowing that she was able to hear every word said. While she appreciated not knowing all the details of a hunt that almost cost Dean his life? Skye wondered how long they would keep doing that? If Dean and Sam were going to remain hunters…then didn't Skye need to adjust to that? Accept it on every level?

"You done with that pot of potato?" Bobby asked, watching Skye with a knowing look as he saw the thoughts buried in her distracted gaze. Hunting wasn't the life for a someone with a family. He'd seen the toll the life had taken on Ellen…even more so now that he'd watched her burn Jo's body. He knew the fears that festered inside both Skye and Elise's minds. But he also knew that those boys had something special in Skye and Elise that he'd never want denied to them either.

"Huh? Oh…uh, yeah. All done here. Guess it's time to eat." Skye gave Bobby a half smile, realising she'd been miles away.

"Damn right it is. You take that bowl of rabbit food in. I'll bring the rest." Bobby nodded to her with a smile.

Skye took the bowl of salad through to the dining room, lighting up with a smile as she saw Dean's happy grin over the table at her arrival. John got to his feet as Skye placed the bowl down and moved to her chair. Sam was next, springing up with a light flush to his cheeks before he glared at Dean. There was a momentary flicker of confusion across Dean's face before his eyes widened in realisation and he leapt up out of his chair like he'd been bitten. "Shit…sorry."

Skye couldn't help but laugh, especially as she saw Connor watching John and the boys with his own confused expression. Apparently she would have to teach him that you stood for a lady…and she'd have to teach Dean too. Taking her place beside Dean, she placed a hand on his leg once he had sat down, squeezing gently as she leaned in and whispered to him. "Ever the gentleman, huh?"

"Does that mean I have to start opening doors for you and putting my jacket over puddles?"

"Oh absolutely." Skye grinned, snatching a quick kiss before Bobby entered with the platter of chicken and then returned with a massive serving bowl full of mashed potato and another bowl full of steamed vegetables.

"Jesus, Singer…what's the occasion?" John teased, grinning as he caught Bobby's bitchy glare.

"I haven't broken out the good silver yet, Winchester, so don't go getting a head swell on my account. Skye was responsible for most of this anyway. " Bobby shot back, starting to serve himself. "Well what are you lot waiting for? It ain't getting any hotter."

The conversation died down only a little as everyone began to eat, the topics swapping around from Cassie, to Andras and back to the Baskells and their haunted paintings. But beyond that, Sam and Elise talked about Wall, Dakota and started to share the photos they had taken…which in turn, lead to Dean laughing about Sam's first experience with a Jackalope.

"You didn't find it funny at the time, dude." Sam glared half heartedly.

"Not that you knew anyway. I personally laughed my ass off any time I saw one of those furry sons of bitches after that. Especially when they were mounted on a wall." Dean grinned, tipping his beer towards his brother in a half salute to the matter.

Elise was handing Skye another photo, this time the one of Sam standing with the Apatosaurus, when her silver ring caught Skye's attention…or more importantly, the finger it was on. "Whoa, whoa…wait. Is that what I think it is?" Skye looked pointedly from Elise to Sam, waiting for an answer.

"What? What did I miss?" Dean looked at Sam, then back at Skye, then over at Elise. Why the hell was Elise suddenly blushing?

"Sam?" John looked expectantly at the pair, picking up on his son's sudden nervousness as Sam slowly got to his feet.

"Uh well…we weren't exactly sure when to tell you guys." Sam began, glancing down with a smile as Elise slipped her hand into his in a show of support. "But I…well…uh, we're engaged."

"Come again?" Dean blinked, sure he'd heard that wrong. He remembered a time when Yellow Eyes had used that against Sam, rubbing it in the kid's face about shopping for rings that Jess never had the chance to wear. Dean didn't even know whether Sam had actually bought a ring. And now here he was again, watching his little brother's face as Sam looked to him for his blessing on this.

Of course, Dean knew his brother better than anyone and as the rest of the table erupted into chaos with Skye squealing in delight, Bobby letting out a cheer and John getting up to walk around the table to hug both Sam and Elise again, he got up quietly and walked around the other side of the table.

Sam turned as Dean approached, shifting with a nervous energy that was pure Sam seeking Dean's thoughts on the subject.

"You popped the question, huh?" Dean arched an eyebrow, smirking.

"Yeah…bended knee and all." Sam admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile.

"I'm proud of you, Sammy. Seriously…that's great, man." Dean grinned then, clapping Sam on the back. "So what's next? White picket fence and two point five kids? Or you going for a whole football team?"

Sam frowned in bemusement. "I think you've got the jump on me there, Dean. I'll just settle for getting married for now, thanks."

Bobby was sat back at the table still beside Connor, grinning to himself as he tried to explain to Connor what all the fuss was about. The scene before him was so normal. The most normal this house had seen in a long time and he was glad to be a part of it. For one small moment, John and the boys had nothing but smiles and laughter. Bobby was glad to see it…because it was all too rare now and it was well deserved…

**xxxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxxx**

_ I owe a HUGE thanks to Pallina aka Manda for her enthusiasm and ideas. Tara for her tireless support and ass kicking of my muse and Deb for keeping me on track when it looks like I might be straying. You guys make this fic possible. _

_And lastly? Thanks to everyone still reading...I hope the wait is worth it for you. _


	13. Precious Moments

_Okay...finally, the epilogue of what's possibly been the hardest fic for me to write. Firstly, let me apologise to everyone for my absence and the delay in getting this written, but I had a lot of real life stuff that kept me away from this story for some very personal reasons. But in saying that? Those reasons have also pushed me to finish this and start on the next story...because my writing is where I find I can deal with issues that I would rather not talk about. _

_I just hope this last chapter does the story justice and paves the way for the next one nicely...it's about all a writer can ask for, right?_

_And I really must give my biggest love and thanks to LovinJackson, Debbie and Manda for their support both with the fic and my own personal issues. You guys are my rock. Thank you so much for being there for me. _

_Now...on with the show..._

**xxxxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxx**

**Kyle, South Dakota. Two months later...**

"Is it on?"

"What do you think?"

"That's not an answer."

"It's on, Dean. Relax, will you? I know what I'm bloody well doing. Now are you going to start talking or do I need to start this again?"

Dean glared at Elise, ignoring the video camera in her hand for a few more seconds before he shook his head. In the next breath, his whole demeanour changed, all the tension bleeding away from his face as Dean switched his focus to the camera before him.

He'd already made two other videos before this one. A legacy he was leaving behind for Skye to show Connor and the baby when he was gone. Not that Dean wanted to think to about that. Who the hell would dwell on their impending death knowing they were heading for Hell? Sam, Dad, Bobby...even Skye was adamant that they would save him. That there was an answer just around the corner. Dean wanted to share their enthusiasm...he really did. Every damn morning he would find himself praying to whoever/whatever was listening to him for an answer. Some way to beat the deal he had made. Watching Connor eat breakfast across from him or feeling the baby kick during the night, the thought of leaving them was tearing him apart. He'd seen Sam grow up without Mom...had watched as Sam hung off every word he was ever told about his mother, simply because it was the only way he would ever know her.

Dean didn't want that for his own baby or for Connor. He hated the thought of Skye being as alone as his father was. But then, she would never be alone. Dean knew that Dad, Bobby and Sam would be there for her. Elise too. Skye had people who would look after her when he was gone.

So over the last couple of months Dean had worked in secret with Elise, making sure that in some way, he was a part of that life too. That Connor and the baby wouldn't grow up without knowing who he was...

An easy grin slid over his lips before he spoke into the camera. "Okay. I guess it's time I taught you guys about real music. Believe me, no matter what your Mom says? Bryan Adams and all that other chick flick stuff is not real music. And don't listen to your Uncle Sammy, that emo crap he loves isn't real music either." Dean's nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.

From behind the camera, Elise gave Dean a half-hearted glare on Sam's behalf.

"Now, the first step in recognising real music? Is getting to know the distinct sound of each band. I'm going to start you off with three of the classics; Led Zepplin, ACDC and Black Sabbath -..."

"_DEAN!"_

"Up here!" Dean called back in reply to Skye's shout from down stairs.

"_Are you ready yet? We're gonna be late, babe!"_

"Okay, okay, I'll be right down." Dean yelled as he signalled to Elise to stop filming. Standing up, he looked down at the dress shirt and and tie he was wearing. One hand reached up and tugged awkwardly at the collar of his shirt, grateful that Elise had zoomed in for a close up on his face that hid what he was wearing on camera. A shirt and tie was fine for the restaurant he was taking Skye to, but not so much for discussing classic rock.

" I guess we can finish up later," Dean shrugged, picking up his jacket off the chair behind him.

Sam was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. His face lit up with a beaming smile as he spied Elise walking down towards him. She was wearing a stunning white evening dress with a plunging neckline that Sam found his eyes roaming to again and again, bringing a flush to his cheeks as he tried to stop himself.

"What? You two need a room already?" Dean quipped softly to his brother as he past him.

"Bite me..." Sam muttered darkly, feeling like he'd been caught watching Casa Del Erotica again. His smile returned the instant he had Elise standing before him, pulling her close as he said, "You look amazing." Tonight wasn't just for Dean and Skye to enjoy themselves...it was a chance for Sam and Elise to celebrate too. It was hard to believe sometimes that two months had passed since Sam had popped the question and now? Now all he had to do was ensure that Dean was safe and Sam would be ready to start officially planning the wedding. But tonight was a chance for them all to just relax and discuss the future...for all of them.

Skye walked out from the living room with Connor bouncing along beside her, trying to catch her attention. "Can I come? Can I come? Pwease?"

Skye paused and turned to her son, crouching down before him. "No, no, baby. You're going to stay here with Bobby tonight. You're going to watch movies and eat popcorn, remember?" She looked over Connor's shoulder to Bobby who had appeared in the doorway of the living room.

"You're gonna help me pop it, right buddy?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah!" Connor yelled excitedly, throwing his hands in the air. "Mommy, if I'm a super good boy, can you get me a chocowate?"

Skye laughed, smiling warmly. "I'll tell you what, kiddo, you behave yourself tonight? And I'll bring you home a piece of cake from the restaurant, okay?"

"Yep!" Connor nodded, beaming.

"Hey, Connor, how about you go and pick what movie you want to watch?" Bobby stepped to the side to clear the doorway.

"Okay, love you, Mommy!" Connor threw his arms around Skye. "Huggie and kiss!" As soon as Skye had reciprocated, Connor bolted down the hallway and past Bobby into the living room.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes at Skye. "Do I look like an idjit? Stop ya damn worrying and go enjoy yourself while you have the chance. You won't have much chance for that once the baby is born."

"Alright, alright..." Skye laughed, raising her hands in a placating gesture as she stood up again, hearing footsteps behind her.

Dean's arms slid around Skye's waist a moment later, the baby wriggling within her belly against the sudden pressure. "Sorry, little dude, but I'm not giving up your Mom. You're gonna have to learn to share..." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of Skye's neck.

"Yeah well, you two had better call ahead if you get any ideas of taking the scenic way home tonight. I don't fancy dealing with John if he goes getting ideas in his head that something's happened to any of you." Bobby warned them, giving Dean a pointed look before he looked further down the hall to Sam and Elise. The flush of colour he saw fill Sam's cheeks was enough to tell Bobby that the message had been received loud and clear.

"Where is Dad anyway?" Dean asked.

"Taking care of some business..." Bobby answered cryptically, his eyes guarded. "Now get out of here and have fun, will you?" He followed the group out to the porch, watching as the Impala left his sight a short time later in a cloud of dust. A heavy feeling had hold of his heart, thinking about how relaxed Dean looked for a moment, grinning as they had driven off, nothing on his mind but the dinner ahead of him that night.

"Dammit, John...we're running out of time..." Bobby muttered darkly to himself, looking out to the horizon as the sun began to set. He turned to head back inside and play babysitter for Connor, trying to shift the dark thoughts from his mind. Bobby didn't need Connor picking up on his worry. Not tonight...not ever.

XxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxx

The house had been long abandoned, sitting on a few acres of land that were over grown and infested with weeds. John Winchester doubted the place had seen any human life in it since well before the Hell's gates opened. It was quiet and secluded and there wasn't going to be any need to clean up when he was done. It would be a miracle if the body was ever found out here.

Tonight was about getting the answers he needed and taking another step up the demonic food chain. Months of research and hunting down demons had done nothing but confirm for John that YED still held Dean's contract and wasn't intending on letting go of it. But there was a glimmer of hope. A chance to break the deal another way if John could find the right demon to help him.

" I don't know about you? But I can do this all night...all week in fact." John bounced a little on the balls of his feet, rolling his shoulders and stretching. "I'm just getting warmed up."

"Fuck you, Winchester. You think you're scaring me?" The man tied to the chair spat back at John through the blood on his lips. His face was scarlet down one side, thick with blood that had been spilt over the last few hours as John had beaten him. His breath was wet and whistling as he spoke. " You can't do anything to me...not without killing the poor bastard I'm riding. He's got a new baby...and a little girl at home that needs him. You willing to rob those kids of a father, Johnny?"

It was a thought that struck at the very core of who he was. John had watched his boys grow up without a mother thanks to a demon and in the end, that same demon had left his boys orphans and turned John into a monster. Even his boys hadn't been saved from that taint. Could he now inflict that same pain of loss onto another innocent set of lives? Children who would never understand why Daddy was gone...and would probably go through life without ever knowing if he was alive or dead. Was that fair? Was it right?

But how right or fair was it for Dean to die? For Connor and his little brother or sister to grow up without their father? That was why he was here, right? To seek answers and save his own family from all that pain.

John turned slowly towards the possessed man, reaching into his pocket as he did so. "Don't tell me what I will and won't do. You have no idea what I'm capable off...and right now? I really don't give a fuck what happens...as long as it hurts." A syringe appeared in John's hand, filled with an opaque liquid. He stuck it into the demon's arm without pause or concern for it hitting the bone before he pushed the plunger all the way down.

"Is that it?" The demon snorted, amused. Sweat began to break out over his body a moment later, pain filling his face and twisting the demon's sneer into a grimace of pure agony. "Arrrghhhh! Arrgh, you fuck! What the fuck is that?"

"A cocktail of salt and holy water." John smirked, his wings shifting slightly before setting again against his shoulder blades. "Hurts a whole lot more when it's injected straight into your veins, doesn't it?" He moved in then, leaning into the demon's face. "Now give me the fucking name I want!"

"Fuck you!" The demon was shaking violently, foaming spittle spilling over his bottom lip as his body seemed to feel it was burning up with acid from the inside out. "Fucking exorcise me! Send me back to Hell! I'll make sure I'm the first in line to give your boy that special welcome when he's sent downstairs. I'll make sure he spits on your fucking name, Johnny!"

John's hand flashed out like a cobra striking, grabbing the demon by the throat and dragging him as far forward as the ropes that secured him to the chair would allow. John closed in the rest of the distance, his eyes cold, reflecting cat-like in the half light of the room. "Exorcise? Oh no...no, no, no. You don't get anything that easy. You're not getting anywhere near my boy."

With his free hand, John slid a knife free from his belt, recalling the way it had slipped so easily into the body of Sarina, that night back at the crossroads when she had taunted Sam. There was nothing human in his eyes now, nothing but a cold animalistic sneer on his lips as he held up the blade for the demon to see. "The name - or I start getting inventive."

The knife slid through the skin on the demon's thigh, lighting up the wound as it went and drawing a fresh scream of agony. A brutal smile twisted the corner of John's mouth, his wings twitching with anticipation. It had been a while since he'd tortured like this...but the memories of Hell were flooding back now, feeding his inner demon side and making him hungry for more. The knife wouldn't kill until John made that final blow. "Like I said before – I can do this all night..."

xxxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx

The scene before him was so damn normal that for a moment, Dean needed to remind himself this was real. It wasn't a dream, no one was going to pinch him and wake him up. Nothing was suddenly going to turn sour and spoil things. This was their moment and for once, Dean wanted to enjoy it all. He wanted it so badly, that he could taste it as strongly as the food he'd been savouring all night. Because this is what it had come down to him. These little moments. Snapshots in time that he could carry with him in his heart and mind to ward off the fear of what was to come. What was he supposed to do? Sit back and just wait for Hell to come for him? Putting everything on hold? No way...Dean wanted to live, not just exist.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Dean blinked as he snapped out of his thoughts, realising that Skye was watching him with a bemused smile on her face. "Huh? Oh...it's nothing. I'm just watching the love birds over there and wondering if I have enough cash on me to get them a room before they get us kicked out of here..."

"Screw you, Dean...you jerk." Sam smiled as he leaned in again to kiss Elise, one hand resting on her knee under the table.

"Dude...you're engaged now – and I don't swing that way." Dean shot back with a grin. He was rewarded with Sam flipping him the bird as he continued kissing Elise and rolled his eyes.

"Stop spoiling their fun, Dean..." Skye laughed softly, slapping him on the arm. The dinner had gone without a hitch and Skye hadn't felt this relaxed in ages. They'd discussed the future plans for the wedding, right down to Dean and Sam planning on how they would get Elise's family over the event. Judging by the way Sam had started fidgeting during that part of the conversation? As much as he was looking forward to meeting Elise's mother and brother, he was also terrified of what they would think of him. It had taken a few soft assurances from Elise to soothe his fears and bring out that smile again.

But Skye also knew that there was more than just those thoughts playing on Sam's mind. There was a unspoken fear that Skye had caught in their eyes at times throughout the night. The elephant at the table that they were all desperately trying to ignore. It was hard to be so cavalier in planning for the future...when Dean might not be there.

Leaning back in her chair, Skye rubbed her hands over her belly, grimacing slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine...I think I should have stuck with a salad instead of having all that carbonara." Skye huffed out a breath, still massaging her stomach. "You don't need to mother hen me, babe...it's nothing."

"Right..." Dean sounded anything but convinced.

"Will you knock it off? We came out tonight to have fun...so relax." Skye scowled lightly at him before it melted away into a smile.

"Are you sure everything's alright, Skye? You're looking awfully pale there."

Skye looked across the table, realising that both Sam and Elise were watching her now in concern. Great...just great. She was ruining everything with a case of indigestion. "Guys, I'm fine! Stop looking at me like that. Order some dessert or something will you? Sheesh!"

A look passed between the boys and Elise, before they all tried to settle back in their chairs. Dean picked at the food before him now, his attention flitting over constantly to Skye, noting the way she kept rubbing her belly subconsciously. Another couple of minutes passed before he threw down his fork and pushed his chair back. "I'm taking you home."

"What? The hell you are! I'm fine, Dean!"

"Well then you can be pissed at me later...but I'm taking you home so you can rest." Dean stated firmly, pushing his chair back in and taking hold of the back of Skye's. "No arguments."

Skye opened her mouth to protest but gave up with a sigh as she saw both Sam and Elise already getting to their feet as well. Sam tossed a few bills on the table to cover the meal and nodded to Dean.

Helping Skye to stand, Dean hovered close to her side the way he'd always hovered protectively with Sam in their younger years. They left the restaurant and headed for the Impala, Dean finding that the mere sight of her still managed to calm him when he was tense.

"Oh shit..."

"Skye?" Dean's worried gaze washed over her as they paused by the passenger door.

"I think...I think my waters just broke."

"Your what?" Dean frowned in puzzlement. His eyes widened seconds later as he reached out to steady himself on the Impala. "Your...you mean...as in. No. No, no. no. You're kidding, right?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm kidding. That's the sort of thing I like to joke about!" Skye snapped, still rubbing her belly as she leaned forward to rest her head on the cool metal beside her. A small groan left her lips. "I think it's time we headed for the hospital."

"Sammy, call 911."

"What?" Sam shot his brother a stunned look. "Dean, just get Skye into the car and we'll get her to Pine Ridge ourselves, dude. "

"Are you out of your fucking mind? You want me to drive us there in my car? It over an hour away. I don't have any blankets or anything to put on the seat, Sam!"

"You're fucking kidding me?" Sam exclaimed. He stormed around the Impala and grabbed his brother by the arm, hauling him aside as Elise moved to help Skye into the backseat of the muscle car. His opened his mouth, ready to tear into Dean over his freaky obsession with the damn car, when he saw the fear in his brother's eyes and everything slammed to a halt inside him. In the next instant, Sam released his hold on Dean and placed his hand on his shoulder instead. "Dude, take a breath and focus. You can do this. Okay? Give me the keys and get in the back with Skye. She needs you right now."

"Right...yeah." Dean answered shakily, running a sweaty hand over his short cropped hair. "I'm good, dude. I'm okay. Let's do this." He fumbled for his keys and handed them over before climbing into the back of his own car. If there was anyone Dean trusted right now to drive them, it was Sam.

xxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxx

The smell of blood hung thick and heavy on the air, seeming to coat every other scent, the same way that it was now spilling across the floor boards of the abandoned house.

The grimy, shattered mirror in front of John reflected a dozen fragmented images of himself as he stared at them with hollow eyes. His hands moved back and forth under the rushing water in the basin as he washed the blood from them. There would be no Lady Macbeth style moments here. No impending madness and regret over the blood he had spilt. John had taken the demon apart with a skill he had learned in the very bowels of Hell itself. It wasn't something he was exactly proud off, but it served a purpose.

"_Don't you get it, Johnny? Your boy is going to be one of us! We've got demons lined up around the block to get their hands on the son of John Winchester! We've got bets on how long the little bitch will take to crack. What do you reckon, John? Think he's got the stones you have? Just how long is your boy going to last when we start feeding him his own entrails? When we make him peel the skin off a baby's back and make it look like that sweet little bastard his slut is carrying inside her?"_

The knife had rammed home through the demon's jaw before John had realised what he was doing. Up through the chin, pinning it shut and stopping John from hearing anything else. Bright, almost fiery light filled the demon's eyes and poured from every other opening it could find as the demon itself was destroyed, leaving nothing behind but a bloody, broken shell that hadn't been drawing breath for hours now.

John left the bathroom, wiping his damp hands on the back of his jeans as he headed for the front door. He had the name he'd been seeking. A demon that was his best chance at finding a loophole...if there was one. John pushed that thought away, letting his wings unfurl as he took the front steps two at a time and hit the open air at last. There had to be a loophole. John wasn't letting them destroy his boy. He couldn't bear the thought that Dean would suffer like he had. Or worse. After all...Dean would be expected to fill his Daddy's place on the rack and that was something John wouldn't ask of his worst enemy.

Launching into the sky, John whipped the air with his wings, pushing himself higher and higher with a sense of purpose and urgency. Now that he had the name, Bobby could help him track down this demon that apparently didn't like to be found.

A demon named Crowley.

xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxx

"Sam, come on, dude! Punch it! Things are getting pretty damn hairy back here!" Dean growled from the back seat. Skye was lying across him, feet braced against the far door, her hand locked around Dean's as she squeezed it with every contraction. "I'm serious, dude!"

" I hear you! Have you seen these roads, Dean? If I go any faster we're gonna end up wrapped around a tree, so get off my back!" Sam yelled back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as the Impala roared through the back roads towards Pine Ridge. They were getting closer with every passing minute, but not close enough for Sam to take his foot off the gas pedal any time soon.

"Sam, stop the car!" Skye suddenly bellowed.

"What? Don't you dare, Sam! Keep going!" Dean argued.

"I mean it, Sam! Stop the damn car! This baby's not waiting! Pull the fuck over, NOW!"

The last word was growled with such venom that Sam hit the brakes without another thought, sliding the Impala to a halt by the side of the road in a spray of gravel and dust. Sam, and Elise clambered out of the front seat while Dean slid out of the back seat to allow Skye to stretch out better.

"I'm calling 911!" Elise fumbled for her cell phone, regretting the fact she had tucked it down her bra, before an impromptu juggling game broke out that ended with her managing to keep it from the dirt by trapping it against her stomach. She threw a shaky, sheepish grin to Sam and Dean as she dialled the number, walking away from the group so she could hear better.

Dean leaned back into the Impala, taking hold of Skye's hand again. "Hey...it's going to be okay. We'll get you to the hospital. Everything's gonna be just fine."

"Liar." Skye shot back with a strained smile, sweat beading her forehead as she took in one long shaky breath after another, trying to breath through the pain the same way she had with Connor's birth. But that had been in a labour ward with a midwife on hand...not in the back of a damn car by the side of the road. What if there was a complication? What if this was what YED had planned all along? Letting Skye think everything was fine before he broke their hearts by taking her baby? "I'm scared, Dean. The paramedics aren't going to get here in time.."

"Sure they will...just uh, keep breathing and uh...try not to worry." Dean almost rolled his eyes at how lame he sounded. He couldn't do this. This was way out of his depth, dammit. Give him something to hunt – that was his area of expertise.

"Dean!"

Dean smacked his head on the door frame as he straightened up in response to Elise's shout. "What?" He could see her still talking to the 911 operator.

"They need to know if she fully dilated!"

"If she's what?"

"Dilated! If the baby is on it's way or not!"

"I'll look, hang on!" Sam moved forward without actually realising what he was saying, trying to be the cool headed one here for the sake of his brother.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sammy. What the hell are you doing?" Dean blocked Sam's path, his hands flat against his brother's chest as he tried to stop him.

"Checking to see how far she's di-..." Sam suddenly looked stricken, realising what he'd been about to do. Taking a step back, he clapped a hand to Dean's shoulder. "Uh...on second thoughts, how 'bout you take a look."

"Oh you think, Einstein?" Dean shot back.

"Guys! Focus! I need to know what's happening!" Elise yelled. If they got through this? She was going to kill the pair of them. Hunting, killing demons and god knows else was a walk in the park - but ask them to deliver a baby and they went to water? Men...

Dean took a calming breath and knelt down in the open doorway of the Impala, reaching for Skye's dress before he glanced over his shoulder at Sam. "You mind giving us a little privacy, dude?"

"Uh...sure, right." Sam stammered, flushing red as he turned his back and walked away to the front of the Impala.

Once he was sure that there weren't going to be any unwelcome peep shows happening, Dean tentatively lifted Skye's dress. "Uhhh, guys?"

"What? What is it? You need to tell me, Dean, I'm not bloody psychic for fuck's sake!" Elise yelled, her frustration at boiling point. Maybe she'd have been better off giving the damn phone to Sam and helping? But then, did she really want to see _that _much of Skye? "What. Do. You. SEE?"

"A head!" Dean yelped back. "There's a freaking head in front of me!"

"WHAT?" Both Sam and Elise exclaimed at the same time, almost jumping out of their skins as Skye screamed from the back seat.

"What the hell am I supposed to?" Dean called, looking frantically at Skye, a heart beat away from full blown panic. "D-don't push, babe...try and hold on or something until the paramedics get here."

"Don't push? Don't _fucking _push? YOU try not pushing! I'm telling you, this kid isn't waiting..." The rest of what Skye wanted to say was lost was she screamed again, bearing down and gripping the seat beside her so hard that Dean winced, expecting the leather to tear. Everything else seemed to simultaneously slow down and happen at the speed of light...all at once. Dean was vaguely aware of both Elise and Sam yelling at him beneath Skye's own painful screaming before he suddenly found himself reaching out to catch a small, squirming bundle like a catcher in some twisted game of baseball.

The air around him seemed to be frozen...or maybe it was just the fact that Dean was too caught up in staring at this tiny, bawling pink figure to fully register that he was supposed to breathe. "Hey...hey there. Look at you, huh? Skye...you...you gotta see this. He's perfect."

"He? You were right? We've got a son?" Skye tried to sit up, needing to see her newborn son, desperate to hold him. "Is he really perfect? You're sure?"

"Easy...easy, it's okay, we're right here." Dean slid into the back seat as best could without disturbing Skye too much. "Here..I think he wants his Mom anyway." Handing his baby son over, Dean was amazed to see that the crying ceased almost immediately. There was movement over his shoulder as Sam and Elise both appeared by the doorway, staring at the sight before them.

"Sammy, can you check the trunk for me? See if there's anything we can use as some sort of blanket?" Dean asked quietly, already stripping off his shirt and draping it over the baby.

"Sure...hang on." Sam popped the trunk and rifled through the contents. "There's nothing here, Dean! Nothing clean enough anyway." He slammed the trunk shut and walked back towards his brother. " I did find something that'll help though."

Crouching down in the doorway, Sam reached out and slipped a plastic zip tie around the umbilical cord, drawing it shut to tie it off. His pocket knife was next, cutting through the cord and allowing Dean to take over, wrapping the baby up inside his shirt for warmth before he handed him back to Skye.

"You okay in here? We need to get to the hospital." Sam straightened up as soon as Dean gave him the nod.

Elise was already in the front passenger seat, twisting so she could watch everything unfolding before her in the back seat. "He's gorgeous, guys..."

Sam glanced at his brother in the rear view mirror as the Impala came to life with a throaty growl, cruising down the small back road with barely any encouragement from the gas pedal. Dean had Skye tucked in against him, his whole focus on his son, one hand reaching out to gently stroke the tiny head over and over. It was a moment that Sam would recall with perfect clarity for the rest of his life.

xxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxx

**Pine Ridge Hospital. Two Hours later...**

"You're going to wear out the carpet." Sam couldn't hide his smile as Elise paused in her pacing to look at him.

" I hate waiting."

"I can see that."

Elise had been pacing ever since they had arrived. Her heels clicking softly in the all but deserted corridor near the waiting room. Sam had called Bobby to let him and his father know what had happened, before he'd dropped into a chair and stayed there. He was just as nervous as Elise, but after years of sitting in waiting rooms like this all over the country for word of his brother or father, Sam was better at hiding what he was really feeling. His instincts told him that everything was going to be just fine, because both Skye and the baby had seemed fine when they arrived here. But as the time ticked on, Sam was starting to have doubts. He needed this to all be alright for his brother. Dean needed this. He deserved a chance at having what he'd been denied for so long.

Elise walked over and all but collapsed into a seat beside Sam, leaning against him and snuggling in more as Sam slid an arm around her shoulders to draw her in closer. They were both exhausted after what had turned into a long night for everyone. Why hadn't they heard anything yet? Had something happened? Some complication that no-one had expected? Where was Dean?

Hurried footsteps could be heard approaching before the doors nearby slammed open as John and Bobby entered. Connor was tucked in against John's side, his arms already reaching for Elise the moment he saw her.

"Where's Dean?"

"What's the doctor said?"

"Is the baby alright? How's Skye?"

The questions were shot at Sam in rapid succession from John and Bobby at the same time. Connor clamped his hands over his ears, scowling at all the noise and wishing he knew where his Mommy and Dean were. Why was everyone talking at once?

"Guys...Guys! HEY!"

Everyone stopped and turned to see Dean standing several feet away from them. A tiny blue bundle was wrapped in his arms as he glared at the group. "You mind?"

"Daddy!" Connor squealed and wriggled frantically until he was let down, rushing over towards Dean. He skidded to a halt just before him, watching the bundle in Dean's arms with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"Hey, little dude. You want to see your brother?"

Connor wrinkled his nose momentarily, twisting awkwardly from side to side as he hesitated in making that step towards the baby. His blue eyes were locked onto Dean before he finally asked in a quiet voice. "Like you an' Unca Sammy?"

Dean had to chuckle at that, his head dipping slightly as his shoulders shook. He had never forgotten the first time he had ever laid eyes on Sam and the silent vow he had made to always be the best big brother he could be. It was a vow that he had said every time he tucked his brother into bed with Mom and it had taken on an even deeper meaning after her death when Dad had given Sam to Dean and told him to run from the house. Would Connor have that same love for his little brother? Was Dean expecting too much?

Motioning gently to Connor to come closer, Dean pulled the blanket back. "This is Ethan. You're a big brother now, dude. You gotta help your Mom take care of this little guy."

Ethan squirmed slightly, his eyes fixtating on Connor as his older brother came within his limited range of sight. The look of sheer wonder on Connor's face as he finally met his little brother, had Dean grinning broadly. When Connor reached over and allowed Ethan to wrap his tiny fingers around his own fingers, Dean knew that there was a bond forming in that moment. Ethan was never going to be alone in this world...he had a big brother of his own now to take care of him.

xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx

**Kyle, South Dakota. **

The sun just creeping over the horizon as Dean stirred in his sleep. The last few days seemed like a blur of chaos and laughter. He'd brought his family home to Bobby's place and helped Skye and the baby settle into a routine while making sure that Connor didn't miss out on anything either. It felt strange in a way, doing the same things he knew he had done with his own father when Sam was brought home. And it left an ache in Dean's chest too, reminding him of what he had lost and how much he still missed his mother.

More than anything, Dean wished he could show his son to Mary and watch that smile he still remembered so well light up her face. It wasn't lost on him that there was a hole still in his family that was never going to be filled. If they could find a way to save him? Dean wouldn't have to inflict that pain on the people he loved too. It was a thought that was hanging heavily over him now that time was running out.

His hand slid out across the mattress, seeking the warmth of Skye...only to find the bed cold and empty beside him instead. Dean sat up, the last few shadows of sleep sliding away as his green eyes swept the room until they found what he was seeking.

Skye and Ethan were nestled into the rocking chair that Bobby had bought for them. A gentle humming could be heard from Skye as she greeted Dean with a brief, warm smile before turning her attention back to her son.

Looking at the tiny, perfect little life in her arms, Skye couldn't help but study every inch, finding herself almost mesmerized by every tiny little sound Ethan made, every twitch and sigh. He had Skye's nose, but she was willing to bet anything that once the eye colour settled, she would see Dean's eyes staring back at her from a face that was already framed by Dean's blonde/brown hair. It was incredible to reconcile this tiny little boy staring back at her, with the ultrasounds images that had been so vital that night back in Pine Ridge. The threat of Azazel seemed distant in this moment when everything was so quiet...so peaceful.

"You could have gotten me up to him, you know.."

"Why?" Skye asked as she looked up. "You were actually sleeping, Dean. I wasn't about to disturb the first nightmare free sleep you've had in days. You need it." Skye kept rocking as she spoke, her eyes never leaving Dean's.

"I'm fine."

"Fine huh? I think you have a different definition of than me...cause you're not fine, babe. You're exhausted. You've been running around, looking after me, helping your Dad and Sam and Bobby do whatever the hell you're all doing in the den. You can't keep pushing yourself, Dean."

Dean knew Skye was right. He was exhausted, right down to the bone. Almost soul weary from everything that had happened. Ethan was the one bright light for him at the moment as his deal ticked down. Time was running out and now that his father had mentioned that some demon named Crowley could hold the key to saving him? Dean was more than happy to burn the candle at both ends – hell, even the middle – if it meant that he wouldn't be dying anytime soon. " I have to do this, Skye. You know that. We've almost tracked this Crowley down. If we can find him..."

"I know. I get it, babe." Skye smiled, almost too scared to hope that this Crowley could be the answer they needed. "You do what you have to do. I've got the boys, okay? You don't need to be Super-dad right now."

Dean snorted, lying back down again and curling up on his side to watch Skye and Ethan, his eyes starting to slide close as sleep tugged at them again. "What? You don't think there's an S on my chest?" His smile was dopey as Dean mumbled sleepily.

By the time Skye looked up again, she could hear Dean snoring lightly.

xxxxXXXXXXxxxx

"You reckon we should wake him?" Bobby rubbed a knuckle at one eye as he closed the book in front of him.

John lifted his gaze from the text before him and peered over the edge of the book towards the sleeping form of his youngest son. Sam was sprawled out on the sofa in Bobby's den, snoring softly. One arm had slipped down off the sofa and was draped across Elise's hip as she slept on a row of cushions she'd laid out a few hours before hand.

"No, let him sleep." It never ceased to amaze John, just how young Sam looked when he was asleep. Watching him right now, it was so easy to remember the little boy who used to do his homework in the backseat of the of Impala while John was hunting. A little boy that John would do anything to protect, even when in later years it would make him the enemy. Now he had Sam working by his side, fully immersed in the life of a hunter. It was a life that John had never wanted for either of his boys, but with Dean's life on the line there was no one else John would rather have at his side. Over the last few days, both boys had shown John what they were made of, working tirelessly side by side to find a way to break this deal. But while Dean was also giving his time to Skye, Connor and Ethan – Sam would remain in the den, working until he was ready to collapse.

It was the same devotion to his brother that John had witnessed in Dean when Sam was missing. The same refusal to quit. John couldn't have been prouder of his boys than he was right now.

"I'm gonna get us get us some coffee. Want some?" Bobby asked, pushing his chair back from his desk.

"Sure." John slid his empty mug across to Bobby, his attention already slipping back to the book in his other hand.

Coffee was only a band aid measure for Bobby right now. Nothing short of a solid couple of night's sleep was likely to do anything for how he felt or for his temper. But they were so damn close to finding this Crowley that Bobby was willing to lose sleep if it meant they got their answer sooner.

Stepping into the kitchen, Bobby was surprised to see Skye and Dean in there already. Connor was sat beside Dean at the table, munching his way through a bowl of Lucky Charms with the gusto only a small boy could find for that cereal.

"Morning..." Bobby sighed, placing the mugs down beside the coffee pot and refilling them. "Are we a kid short or am I too damn tired to see straight this morning?"

"Ethan's asleep upstairs still." Skye offered over her shoulder. She was rifling through the pantry cupboard for something.

"The young 'un's asleep and you're not?" Bobby's lips quirked into a smile as he looked over at Dean. "Never took you for the early morning type, Dean."

"I'm not, trust me." Dean ground out, his fingers wrapped around his own coffee as he sipped at it, savouring the taste. "But someone..." He narrowed his eyes at Connor beside him, but smiled when the little boy looked at him. "...Decided they were hungry...and apparently it's contagious." His gaze sung over to Skye.

"So sue me... a girl's gotta eat. Especially when a certain little guy demands feeding on demand. " Skye turned and poked her tongue at Dean, smiling. "Anyway, you could have stayed in bed."

"On my own? Where the hell's the fun in that?" Dean frowned.

Bobby rolled his eyes, deciding that a retreat back to the den was in order. "You looking for anything in particular there, Skye? Or are you just in one of those moods to rearrange the inside of my pantry at seven in the morning?"

"I thought we had some tuna still?"

"Nope...ran out the other day." Bobby threw over his shoulder as he left the kitchen, coffees in hand.

"Dammit...well there goes that idea." The pout was almost evident in her voice as Skye sighed and closed the pantry door. "I'll have to go with plan B for breakfast then."

"What was plan A?" Dean swallowed down the last of his coffee and got up to refill his mug. A quick change in direction took him past Skye, his free hand sliding around her waist from behind as he placed a kiss on her shoulder.

"Tuna and cheese in a toasted sandwich..." Skye leaned back into his touch, loving the way it felt so right to be nestled into Dean's embrace. "I've kinda had a craving for them lately."

"I could go into town for you? Pick up some tuna?" Dean turned Skye around so they were face to face. Skye couldn't help but smile at the look of anticipation on his face, the way his eyebrows were raised, his green eyes bright.

"You'd do that? Who are you and what have you done with Dean?" Skye joked, exploding with laughter seconds later as Dean's fingers dug into her ribs and tickled her mercilessly. The laughter was a welcome sound for Dean, spurring him on to continue tickling until Skye was left breathless and leaning against him, tears in her eyes.

"You need anything else while I'm gone?"

"Well...you could bring me home a tall, handsome stranger?"

"A stranger huh?" Dean's lips lifted in a smirk.

"Oh yeah...about six foot one. Blonde-brown hair, green eyes, leather jacket...but he's gotta have a hot car. No fun otherwise." Skye kept her face completely deadpan until the very last minute when a smile finally began to show.

Dean chuckled and leaned in, capturing Skye's lips in a soft kiss that deepened as Skye sighed gently and all but melted into him.

"Daddy?"

Dean pulled away reluctantly and turned to see Connor watching them both from the breakfast table. "Yeah little dude?"

"Can you get me a chocowate? Pweeeease? I'll be super good!"

The kid sure knew how to put on the puppy dog eyes. Dean was going to have a word with Sam about teaching Connor all his tricks and giving the kid an unfair advantage over him. "Super good huh? Good enough to help me wash the Impala when I get back?"

"Yeah!" Connor yelled excitedly.

"It's a deal then." Dean winked at Connor before he drew Skye in for one last kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I won't be long..."

xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx

The familiar purr of the Impala beneath his hands brought a smile to Dean's face, his body sinking back into the seat a little, just drinking in the moment and the feeling of being home again. No matter what, the Impala was always going to be home for him. Always.

It was just something unwritten that everyone seemed to understand, even if Sam did still joke about Dean marrying his car someday. But the understanding was still there and one day, Dean hoped to pass that on to Connor and Ethan. The same love for this muscle car. The same feeling of home and safety and family all wrapped up in a toughened shell of gleaming black metal.

"Hey! Dean, wait up!"

Squinting against the morning glare towards the house, Dean spotted Sam rushing down the porch steps while he shrugged on a jacket, his long legs easily eating up the distance to the Impala. The passenger door opened a moment later and Sam's lanky frame seemed to fill the space beside Dean.

"I thought you were sleeping, dude?"

"I was..." Sam admitted, suppressing a yawn and running a hand through his unruly mop of hair. "And then Connor started yelling about you going to town to get him chocolate and woke Elise up. Apparently she wants bagels...so...here I am."

"You don't need anymore beauty sleep anyway, princess...people really will think you're a girl." Dean grinned, rubbing his arm as Sam socked him one with a half hearted punch. "Ow! Hey!"

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me anyway, Sammy."

"You just keep telling yourself that."

Both boys were grinning broadly as the Impala pulled out of the Auto yard and headed towards Kyle. Sam reached over and turned up the stereo, rolling his eyes as Def Leppard thrummed through the speakers. "Dude...are you ever updating this collection?"

"To what? Sammy's greatest emo hits?" Dean ducked another playful punch that came his way.

"Screw you, jerk."

"Only in your dreams, bitch."

What happened in that next moment? Sam was never able to recall with any real clarity. It was simply a sudden avalanche of screaming metal, shattering glass and the memory of Dean's arm pressed against his chest in a futile effort to keep Sam in his seat. The world spun and whirled with a violence that rapped Sam's head against the side window, warm blood washing down his face before everything went dark...

There was a soft ticking noise accompanied by a steady dripping sound as Sam regained consciousness slowly. He groaned, wincing at the way his head felt foggy and ready to split in two if he moved too much. "Dean?"

There was still no sound beyond the dripping and ticking that Sam had now identified as the engine cooling. What the hell? Why was it cooling? Why was everything upside down? Why the hell wasn't Dean answering? "Dean? Say something..."

Forcing his eyes open, Sam hissed in pain and quickly shut his left eye as it filled with blood, stinging almost like acid. He blinked and shook his head, almost feeling his grip on the world slip away. What the hell had happened? Everything was so sketchy and jumbled. One minute joking – and the next...

There was a blood on the floor below Sam. No, wait – not the floor. The roof. Sam's mind finally caught up with what he was seeing. The impala was on it's roof...they had spun and flipped somehow. Sam's blurry gaze tracked the blood, his heart picking up pace to an all out gallop in his chest as he finally took in the sight he didn't want to see.

Dean was half slumped in his belt, upside down like Sam...but he'd somehow shifted loose and was lying on his head and shoulders against the roof. His head was bent on a strange angle, his eyes open and staring blankly at Sam.

"No...no, Dean!" Sam stretched across, fumbling for his brother, scrabbling against the belt that was still holding him in place upside down. This wasn't happening. Not this. Not now. It wasn't right! It wasn't fair! Sam needed more time, he needed to get Dean out of the deal...his brother couldn't do this! "Come on, man...breathe, please. Move for me. _Please!" _

Dean was still just out of his reach, Sam's fingers only just brushing against his brother as he struggled against his seat belt. A growl of frustration rumbled from his lips as Sam locked one hand against the belt buckle. With a metallic snap it cracked and fell apart in his hand, dumping Sam unceremoniously on the ground. He scrambled upright and crawled over to Dean, pulling him loose from the belt, his mind screaming at him not to move Dean while another part of him was screaming that it was too late anyway.

There was no warmth, no breath, no heartbeat.

Sam crawled from the car and cradled Dean to him, trying not to look at the horrid way his neck was bent, the bruising that had formed around his hairline and eye where the impact had obviously happened. Gravel was biting into his jeans, the smell of gasoline still heavy on the air.

Sam didn't care about any of it. His whole world was framed with his brother's lifeless eyes staring back at him. Eyes that had been so bright and full of life in what felt like only minutes before to Sam. How long had it been? Did it really matter anyway?

The anguished cry that ripped itself from Sam's throat as he hunched over Dean's still form sent out a shockwave of psychic energy from him that shattered windows for miles around.

Dean was gone...and Sam had been unable to do anything to save him.

**xxxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx**

_I can hear the lynch mobs forming already...but trust me, there is a LOT more to this story. I've already begun working on the next story, Hellbent which I hope will be a real rollercoaster ride for everyone. That is, if you don't all abandon me for what I did here. LOL *runs for cover*_


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